


Dalton Boys

by grlnxtdr29



Category: Glee
Genre: Dubious Consent, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-27
Updated: 2019-02-27
Packaged: 2019-11-06 17:32:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 23,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17944097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grlnxtdr29/pseuds/grlnxtdr29
Summary: Dalton Academy for boys seems like the perfect place for Kurt after The Incident. But is it really perfect? You know what they say, if something is too good to be true, then it probably isn't. What is really going on at Dalton Academy? And why do those Dalton Boys seem so...Perfect?





	1. Dalton Academy for Boys

Dalton boys are fine and fair of face

Dalton boys move with dignity and grace

Dalton boys are exceptional in every way

because Dalton boys are trained to obey

…

Kurt stood staring up at the stone edifice, feeling completely out of place. He had no idea what he was doing here. This place was for rich kids, not for the over indulged son of a mechanic. So why was he here?

Because it was no longer safe for him at McKinley, and his dad didn't feel as if he'd be safe at any public school after The Incident. Kurt still woke up in the middle of the night sometimes, covered in sweat and gasping for breath. He shook the images from his mind before they could take hold and turned to look at the older man beside him.

"Ready, kiddo?" his dad asked. Kurt sighed, adjusting the strap of his carry case over his shoulder, and grabbed the handle of his suitcase, as his dad and Finn picked up the three boxes of personal items he'd brought along. He'd packed light, knowing he wouldn't have much room in his dorm, as he'd be sharing it with another boy. And it wasn't like he'd need to bring his entire wardrobe, since he'd be wearing a uniform most of the time.

"I'm ready, I guess."

They entered the building and were greeted by Ms. Hargrove, the Dean's secretary. She smiled, and although he was certain she meant it to be kind and welcoming, Kurt couldn't help but envision a harpy eagle eyeing up it's prey.

"Mr. Hummel, welcome to Dalton Academy for boys. Allow me to introduce Mr. Montgomery and Mr. Thompson, two of our Senior class members." Kurt looked at the two boys, one Asian and one African American, both of whom stood still as mannequins. "They will show you to your dorm, introduce you to your roommate, and help you find your classes for your first few days here. They will also fill you in on the the rules and answer any questions you might have."

The darker boy stepped forward, breaking the illusion of stillness, and took the box from Burt, while the other boy took the boxes from Finn. Kurt hugged his dad and step brother goodbye, and followed the older boys up a winding stairway.

The Asian boy smiled at him. "I'm Wes, by the way. This is David."

Kurt flinched at the name, but smiled at them all the same. "I'm Kurt."

As they made their way to the fourth floor, Kurt saw several boys in the hallways, all talking in whispers. There was no obnoxious laughter or shouts, there was no rough housing or jostling among them. It was almost eerily silent.

"It's so quiet," he said, softly. "If I didn't see people standing around, I could almost imagine I was alone in the hallways."

"It's quiet time, from 4:30 to 6pm," David said just above a whisper. "Once the dinner bell rings, the noise level will go up. For now it's time for study, and for the faculty to go over the homework that was turned in, and prepare their lesson plans for tomorrow."

They stopped outside room 412, and Wes took a key from his pocket. "Your roommate will be here in about fifteen minutes, he has boxing practice after class on Mondays." He unlocked the door and ushered him inside.

Kurt's first thought was that the room was larger than he expected. His second thought was that it was extraordinarily neat. Everything on the occupied side of the room was organized and in it's place, and there wasn't a speck of dust to be seen. He was impressed, he thought he was the only neat freak in the state of Ohio. He set his bag down on the bed on the unoccupied side of the room, and rolled the suitcase over by the closet on that side. The other two boys deposited his boxes on the desk chair in the corner.

He began to unpack as the other two went over the rules. Most of them were straight forward; no running in the halls, no bullying, no inappropriate language, be respectful to the teachers, observe quiet time and no littering in the cafeteria. But a couple of them seemed a little strange to him; PDAs were to be restricted to the cafeteria, dorm doors were to remain unlocked after 8pm and until first bell in the morning.

"Why?" He questioned.

"Random dorm checks for contraband." David replied.

"No, I mean the PDAs," Kurt said. "I mean, yeah the leaving the doors unlocked is confusing too, but why have a rule about public displays of affection at an all boys school? Are there really that many gay boys here? And why allow PDAs at all? I would have thought the rule would be to keep that stuff behind closed doors."

Both David and Wes seemed confused by the question. "What exactly do you consider public displays of affection?" Wes asked.

Kurt frowned. Were they serious? "Uh, well, it's generally defined as any prolonged skin to skin contact such as holding hands or kissing, or a physical embrace beyond a congratulatory or greeting hug."

The Asian boy smiled in understanding. "Ahh, yeah, kissing and physical contact are definitely kept behind closed doors. The rule applies to hand holding, and casual contact. And yes, there are several gay and bisexual boys here, but this is not a gay school."

Kurt was still confused, but before he could ask for clarification, the door opened and a boy entered. He was a little shorter than Kurt, with dark curly hair that was fighting to break free from the gel he used to pin it down. When he glanced up at Kurt, his hazel eyes trapped Kurt's gaze like an insect trapped in amber.

Kurt swallowed as he could see the sweat dripping down the boy's face. The boy smiled at him, and he felt his knees go weak.

"Ah, Blaine," David said. "This is your new roommate, Kurt Hummel. Kurt, this is Blaine Anderson, Dalton's featherweight boxing champion, and lead soloist of the Warblers."

"Hi," Blaine said stepping closer and extending his hand.

"Hello," Kurt replied, his voice coming out higher than usual. He cleared his throat and spoke again. "It's nice to meet you."

Blaine's smile widened. "Kurt Hummel, from New Directions?"

Whoa, this gorgeous boy had heard of him? "Yeah?"

"Oh my gosh! Please tell me you are going to try out for the Warblers?"

Wes looked confused. "You know him?"

Blaine rolled his eyes. "You should too! Don't you read the show choir blogs? New Directions won their Sectionals last year, despite the fact that they had their set list stolen by their competitors! They were also in a Mattress Land commercial, and their lead female vocalist was egged by Vocal Adrenaline!"

The other two boys both perked up.

"You guys won a competition performing on the fly?" Wes asked, awed.

"You guys must have been really good if Vocal Adrenaline thought they needed to intimidate you!" David said practically at the same time.

"You saw the Mattress Land commercial?" Kurt asked, remembering bouncing around in blue pajamas.

Blaine smiled again. "Yeah, you were amazing!"

Kurt blushed at the praise. "Thanks. I almost broke my neck doing a back flip, and Quinn accidentally kicked me in a highly sensitive location." Oh Gaga, did I just say that out loud?

Blaine's laugh was charming, and in no way derogatory. "Well, I'm certainly glad you didn't break your neck!"

A soft chime came from Wes' pocket. "Oh, hey, ten minutes until the dinner bell rings. You'll want to put on your uniform, Kurt."

"And I need a shower," Blaine added, heading towards the ensuite bathroom.

"We'll come back in a few minutes to walk you to the dining hall," David said as he and Wes headed to the door.

"Thanks," Kurt said before the door closed behind them. He quickly changed as he heard the shower running, and was just tying his shoe when Blaine came out, hair once again gelled into submission and still buttoning his shirt. Kurt could see a V of tantalizing skin before the boy turned into his closet and grabbed his blazer and tie. Kurt forced himself not to stare.

"So, why did you leave McKinley?" Blaine asked, his back to Kurt as he finished dressing.

It was an innocent question, Kurt knew, but he could feel his chest tightening up, and his throat constricting as the memory flashed through his mind. The cold metal against his back, the steam from the showers, the smell of sweat cloying in his nose. His heart seemed to be trying to race and stutter at the same time.

"Kurt? Kurt! Hey, it's okay, just breathe!" Blaine's voice came from somewhere close by, and he tried to blink him into focus as the shorter boy leaned over him. When had he sat down on the floor? "Shh! It's alright, calm down. I'm sorry if I said something that upset you."

Kurt shook his head, trying to tell the other boy that it wasn't his fault, but he still couldn't speak, still trying to pull in a full breath. The other boy seemed to understand. His voice was soft, and compassionate as he pushed Kurt's head down to rest on his knees. "You're having a panic attack, aren't you? I recognize the symptoms. I had them frequently after I was attacked. That's what happened to you, isn't it?"

Kurt managed a weak nod of his head. Blaine stood and went to the bathroom and filled a glass with water, and brought it back. "Here, take small sips and try to relax."

He then sat behind Kurt and began rubbing circles between his shoulder blades, helping to loosen up tensed muscles and encourage easier breathing. Kurt finally managed to pull in a deep breath just as Wes and David returned. The handsome Asian boy took in the situation immediately.

"Panic attack?" He asked. Blaine nodded for Kurt, who was blushing in embarrassment. "It's okay, Kurt. Don't feel ashamed. You aren't the first or the last boy here to have them. Everyone here has their own story. If and when you are ready, you can tell us. Just take deep breaths."

"Feeling better now?" David asked a moment later. Kurt nodded and slowly stood up just as the dinner bell rang.

"I'm sorry," he said, voice still weak. "It hasn't even been a week since..." He trailed off, unable to finish as his throat threatened to close up again.

Blaine patted him on the back. "It's okay, just try to focus on something else for a moment. I won't tell you to try not to think about it, because I know that is almost impossible. Just focus on something pleasant for a few minutes until you feel calm enough. Think about joining the Warblers, and all the fun we could have singing together." The boy gave him a wry smile, and Kurt couldn't help but smile back.

Wes laughed softly. "That's our Blaine, always the charmer. He could charm the scales off a cobra."

Kurt couldn't help the little giggle that escaped at that. David smiled at him. "Come on, let's go down to the dining hall. It's lasagna night, and no one and nothing gets between Blaine and his lasagna!"

The shorter boy laughed and punched the darker boy in the arm. "Seriously, though, Kurt," Blaine began. "Do you feel up to going down to dinner? If not you could lay down and rest, and I could bring you back a tray if you like."

Kurt shook his head. "I'm okay, and I love lasagna too."

The trip downstairs was much different than the trip up. There were still several boys along the halls, but now they were more animated, laughing, joking, shoving each other good naturedly. It was almost as if it was a completely different school. Kurt followed the other three boys, who seemed to be very popular, as several people greeted them as they passed. The trio all smiled and returned the greetings, and even stopped a couple of times to introduce Kurt.

As they entered the dining hall and gathered up their trays, Wes and David kept pointing out various people to Kurt and saying things like "That's Cam, he'll be in your French class," or, "Greg is a mathematical genius, if you need help with tutoring," and, "Jacob there is in your chemistry class, but beware, he'll talk your ear off if you get partnered with him."

They led him over to a large table in the center of the dining hall. "This is the Warblers' table. You can sit with us if you'd like," Blaine offered. Kurt nodded and sat between Blaine and David. Kurt couldn't help but notice the way the other boys all seemed to treat the Warblers with respect, some of them even seemed in awe of the fact that the new kid was allowed to grace their table.

"Why is everyone looking at us like that?" He asked Blaine softly.

"Like what?"

"I don't know, some of them are looking over here like Lady Gaga just walked into the room."

Blaine laughed softly. "The Warblers are the most prestigious club at Dalton. They're like rock stars. Everyone wants to join, but only a few are selected."

"Oh," Kurt said, sounding dismayed.

Blaine just smiled at him. "Relax, I can pretty much guarantee you'll get a spot once Wes and the rest of the council hear you sing." He then proceeded to introduce him to the rest of the boys at the table. There was Thad, who along with Wes and David presided on the Warbler council, Jon, who everyone called Beatz, Nick and Jeff, who were holding hands and leaning on each other, Trent, who seemed to have a sunny disposition, and several others whose names Kurt couldn't keep up with yet.

Everyone at the table smiled at Kurt and made certain to engage him in conversations. In a way, Kurt felt strange to be sitting there among the 'cool' kids and be accepted. No one questioned his sexuality, no one said anything about his effeminate voice, and no one seemed to notice that he was just some nobody whose dad owned a garage. It seemed too good to be true, and he was afraid he was going to wake up and find it was all a dream.

…

After dinner, Kurt and Blaine returned to their room. Blaine still had homework to finish, so Kurt quietly finished unpacking his things. The last item he unpacked was a picture frame. He sat quietly on his bed, studying the photograph. It was from his eighth birthday party. He was beaming at the camera as his Dad and his mom laughed and hugged him. He traced his finger over his mother's face.

"Are those your parents?" A soft voice asked. Kurt looked up to see that Blaine had finished his homework, and was looking over his shoulder.

"Yeah. My mom died just a few months after it was taken."

"I'm sorry. How did it happen, if you don't mind me asking?"

Kurt shrugged and turned to rest his back against his headboard. "Ovarian cancer that spread quickly. By the time they diagnosed it, it was already too late."

"You look like her. Except the ears. Those you got from your dad."

Kurt laughed. "He says the only thing I got from him was his pigheadedness. He's great though. He's my rock. I almost lost him too, recently. He had a heart attack a month and a half ago, and almost died."

Blaine sat beside him on the bed. "That sucks. But he's okay now, isn't he?"

"Yeah, but I still worry about him. I'm just glad he has Carole to take care of him while I'm here."

"Carole?"

"My stepmom. They just got married the day before the...incident." He forced himself to take a deep breath before he continued. "That's her there, in the picture on the desk, along with my new stepbrother, Finn, dancing together at the wedding."

Blaine stood and went over to the desk to study the picture. "Wow, he's tall. Do you have any other siblings?"

Kurt shook his head. "No. Do you?"

"Yeah, an older brother. Cooper. He's twenty six."

"That's a big age difference." Kurt said. Blaine nodded as he looked at the other pictures Kurt had on his desk. There was one of him and Mercedes, a group photo of New Directions after winning sectionals last year, and a picture of Kurt and the girls in their Gaga outfits from Bad Romance.

"My parents only wanted one child. I was...unexpected." Kurt could hear the sadness in the other boy's voice.

"I'm sorry." He didn't know what else to say. The dark haired boy just shrugged and turned back around to face him, a self deprecating smile on his face.

"My relationship with my parents has always been a bit strained. They just didn't know what to do with me. Cooper was always the perfect child; good looking, well mannered, intelligent. No matter what I did or how hard I tried, I never seemed to measure up to him. And then when I came out to them, they really didn't know how to react. Oh, don't get me wrong, they aren't cruel or anything. They just don't know how to act around me."

"That sucks. I'm sorry." Kurt studied the other boy. The fact that he'd admitted that he was gay made Kurt's heart skip a beat. He wouldn't let himself think about why that was. He didn't have a very good track record with crushes, and he refused to let himself get his hopes up again.

"It's not your fault, I don't even know why I brought it up, really. I mean, you hardly know me, and I just drop my baggage in your lap." Blaine said, moving back to his side of the room. He opened a drawer and pulled out a candle and matches. He set the candle on the table between their beds and lit it, then drifted back over to his desk.

"It's okay," Kurt replied. "Besides, I went and had a panic attack practically at your feet within the first fifteen minutes of meeting you. I guess we're even now." He smiled as the scent of lavender and something else he didn't recognize filled his nose. The smell was making him drowsy.

"I know, and I'm still sorry."

Kurt tried to stifle a yawn as his eyelids grew heavier. "Sorry for what?" he asked, his words slurring a little as sleep dragged at him. He was beginning to feel a little alarmed, sensing that something wasn't right, but he couldn't keep his eyes open.

As he succumbed to the darkness, he thought he heard Blaine say sadly, "I'm sorry you came to Dalton."


	2. Learning Curve

The dark haired boy let out a choked sob as sweat beaded on his face. "Please! No more! I did what you asked me to!"

He cried out as another wave of sensation rippled through him, every nerve ending over stimulated. The voice that responded to him was distorted, warped by the effects of the drugs as much as the electronic filter. "Yes, you obeyed nicely, my perfect boy. But your job isn't finished yet."

The boy whimpered. "I gave him the sedative, as you asked me to. What else do you want from me?"

"All will be revealed in time. For now, you only need to remember that obedience is everything."

The boy sobbed again, hating himself, hating how much he enjoyed what was happening to him. His body didn't care that this was so wrong, didn't care that the drug coursing through him robbed him of his will power and self preservation. It craved the sensations being forced upon it. He craved the praise of the Overseer.

…

Kurt woke up the next morning, his head pounding with a headache, nausea roiling in his stomach. He barely made it to the bathroom before he collapsed to his knees, and vomited. Just great, my first day at a new school and I'm sick.

He hadn't slept well, either, he'd kept having weird dreams, though he couldn't recall any of them now. He'd had nightmares almost every night since The Incident. All of them had left him feeling a sense of dread.

"Kurt? Are you okay?" Blaine asked from the doorway. Kurt glanced up at the curly haired boy, resenting the fact that the other boy looked so perfect, despite having just rolled out of bed.

"Migraine," he managed to mutter before another bout of vomiting.

"I'm sorry. I have some medicine for that, if you want." Blaine went to the sink and dampened a wash cloth with cool water, and filled a glass, before grabbing the bottle from the medicine cabinet.

"Thanks," Kurt moaned, as the wet material gently wiped his face.

Blaine smiled softly at him. "I think my candle made you sick, I'm sorry. Lavender helps me sleep. I should have warned you."

Kurt frowned at the memory. Yeah, lavender was soothing, but it seemed to him that the candle had something else mixed with it. He'd never felt like that before. Before he could think about it further, another sharp pain lanced through his skull, and he heaved again, though there was nothing left in his stomach to throw up.

"Here, take this, and lay back down for a while. You have an hour before it's even necessary to get up." Blaine helped him take the headache medicine, holding the glass steady, because his hands were shaking so bad. The curly headed boy then helped him back to bed and tucked him in. "Go back to sleep for a little while, and I'll bring you breakfast. Hopefully by then you'll feel well enough to go to classes."

Kurt sighed, closing his eyes.

…

Surprisingly, when Kurt woke up ninety minutes later, he felt much better. There was still a dull ache in his head, but it was no where near as bad as it had been. He sat up slowly as Blaine set a breakfast tray down on the table between their beds. The shorter boy smiled. "Better?"

Kurt smiled sleepily and nodded. "Hungry."

"Good. I hope you like blueberry pancakes and fruit salad. I didn't want to bring you anything too greasy that might upset your stomach again."

"Sounds perfect, thank you."

"No problem, and don't feel like you need to rush, your first class this morning has been canceled, so you have time to get ready."

"Why was it canceled?" Kurt asked, taking a bite of pancake.

"The teacher, Mr. Jensen's wife went into labor this morning."

"Oh. What was my first class supposed to be, anyway?"

"English. You have AP History next. Wes will stop by to get you before to show you where to go. I have to leave in a little while to get to Calculus."

Kurt felt a little self conscious as the other boy watched him eat. "I'm sorry about earlier. I really haven't made much of an impression here, have I? First I have a panic attack, and then I get a migraine and wake you up with my retching."

The other boy sat down on his own bed and just smiled at him. "It's okay, it's not your fault."

"I still feel bad, though. I'm not usually so...helpless." His voice broke a little as a flash of memory flitted through his mind; cold, hard metal digging into his back, rough hands, unwanted kisses...

No! He wouldn't fall apart again. He set aside the remains of his breakfast, no longer hungry. "How long until I need to be ready?"

Blaine glanced at the clock. "You have a little over an hour. I should be heading off now. I'll see you at lunch time."

Kurt nodded as he slipped out of bed and gathered up his uniform and headed to the bathroom to shower. As he shampooed his hair, he noticed a tender spot behind his left ear, like a small bruise. He must have bumped it sometime between yesterday afternoon and this morning, though he didn't recall doing so. He shrugged it off and finished rinsing.

By the time Wes arrived to show him to class, he was moisturized, dressed, and impeccably coiffed, ready to go. "How are you feeling? Blaine said you had a bad migraine this morning."

"I'm doing better now. Still have a little bit of a headache, but it's bearable." He finished tying his tie and picked up his satchel. "So, off to AP History?"

The Asian boy smiled kindly at him. "Yes, and then afterward David will show you to French, which he has with you."

"Génial, j'aime le français. Je suis impatient d'y être!"

"I have no clue what you just said, but you and David will get along famously." Kurt laughed as they walked down the stairs. As they approached the classroom, Wes paused. "By the way, we're holding auditions tomorrow for the Warblers, at four-thirty. I hope we'll see you there."

Kurt smiled. "I'd like that."

The older boy patted him on the shoulder, and then left for his next class. Kurt entered the classroom and took his seat. History was not his best subject, and he wasn't sure how he had ended up in the AP class here at Dalton. He'd barely held on to a 3.0 GPA at McKinley in basic history. It wasn't that he didn't like history, it was just hard keeping all those dates straight in his head.

As the class began, and Kurt took notes, the pain in his head began to increase again, though not enough to make him sick. He did find himself rubbing absently at the spot behind his left ear occasionally, but surprisingly by the end of the class, he had all the dates memorized.

David met him by the door when class let out, and they talked about music as they walked to French. The pain faded out as he engaged in conversation with the teacher in flawless French.

Next he had AP Calculus. He was pretty good at math, but occasionally he would get mixed up. He was erasing a mistake in his equation when the pain in his head returned. Kurt was beginning to worry. He'd had migraines before, but they'd never been like this before. He thought about going to the nurse, but then just put it down as stress. Dalton's standards were much more ridged than public school. Between transferring to a new school, the nightmares from The Incident, and worrying about his dad's heart condition, Kurt thought it was a wonder he hadn't been hospitalized with a mental breakdown.

He was glad that lunch was next. He was invited to sit at the Warbler's table again, and several of the boys asked him if he was planning to audition the next afternoon. The conversation mostly revolved around music, but he over heard a couple boys discussing the fact that Trent had apparently been dumped by his boyfriend. He looked over at the large boy, and frowned when he saw the amount of food the boy had on his plate, obviously comfort eating.

"Trent," Blaine said, sounding worried. "You know what happens when you eat too much."

The other boy took a large bite of brownie, almost in defiance. Kurt wasn't exactly sure what happened next, but it appeared the boy had a small seizure, and blood trickled from his nose. Immediately Wes, Blaine, and David were on their feet, and leading the boy out of the room. The rest of the Warblers seemed to lose their appetites, and the conversation became stilted, none of the boys wanting to look at each other.

Kurt turned to Nick. "Is he okay? What happened?"

The friendly looking Warbler appeared reluctant to answer at first, but then sighed and said, "Trent is on a special diet. When he eats things he isn't supposed to, he suffers. He'll be fine by this afternoon."

Kurt frowned. "You mean like food allergies?"

The Warbler just shrugged.

Wes returned just as lunch finished up, and led Kurt to his next class, AP Science. He did fairly well in science generally, and the teacher was fairly engaging, which made the class more interesting. His next class was Economics, which he enjoyed.

He was dreading his last class of the day; Phys Ed. At McKinley, he had avoided the locker room like the plague. Except for that day...No! Stop thinking about that!

Nervously, he entered the humid environment, keeping his head downcast. He knew the boys here at Dalton adhered to the no bullying policy, but he didn't want to chance giving any of them a reason to hate him. He changed quickly in one of the bathroom stalls, before putting his things in his locker.

"Kurt! Hey!" Blaine called out as he was leaving the locker room. "How you feeling now? I forgot to ask you at lunch time."

"I'm fine, though I've been having minor flare ups through out the day. How is Trent? Does that happen often?"

Blaine looked away as he answered. "He'll be fine. He just needs to remember to stick to his diet."

"I've never seen anyone have that kind of reaction to a food allergy. Must be very severe. What all is he allergic to?"

Before Blaine could answer, a whistle blew, and the Phys Ed teacher called attendance.

"Alright, we have a new boy here today. Mr. Hummel, before we set your regimen, we'll need to do an evaluation. The rest of you know the routine. Ten rounds, starting now!"

The other boys broke up into groups of 4-5 and moved to different stations around the gym; some went to the weights, some began to run around the indoor track, some began doing push ups, sit ups, and chin ups, rotating after a while.

"Mr. Hummel," the instructor, Mr. Higgins, drew his attention. "We'll start with measurements, and percent body fat, and then we'll check your muscle strength. Once we see where you are at, we'll set up your routine for gym class, and discuss your diet."

Kurt frowned at that, but just nodded his head. An aide assisted Mr. Higgins in taking Kurt's weight and measurements, and then asked him to take off his shirt. Kurt hesitated, self conscious of his body.

"Mr. Hummel? I asked you to take your shirt off," Mr. Higgins said, sounding stern. Kurt winced as pain once more lanced through his head, and he shakily removed his shirt. The bruises from the bullying had mostly faded, but the ones on his back from The Incident were still visible. He was aware of several boys staring at him. "Much better. Don't make me repeat myself again, please."

Kurt nodded, his face flushed with embarrassment. They measured his percentage of body fat, and Mr. Higgins murmured in approval. "You're a dancer, correct?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good. A little work on your muscle tone, maybe a slight change in your diet, and you should be perfect. I'll speak to the nutritionist. For now, why don't you finish out the period doing sit ups and pull ups? Blaine can work with you."

Kurt nodded and hurriedly slipped his shirt back on before going over to the area where the boys had just moved into their final round of physical training. He was still feeling self conscious as Blaine smiled at him.

"Are you okay, Kurt?"

The pale boy wouldn't look at him, feeling like he was on the verge of tears. "My headache is coming back, I think." It was the truth, his head was beginning to throb again, though still not nearly as bad as that morning, but that wasn't what was bothering him. He felt humiliated at having to take his shirt off in front of everyone.

Blaine patted him on the shoulder. "It'll be okay. There's only about ten minutes of class left. I'll hold your feet for the sit ups."

Kurt nodded, still not looking at the other boy. He did a set of twenty sit ups, and then twenty pull ups, but his arms felt like noodles by the time he finished. Fortunately the bell rang then. Kurt just grabbed his things, not bothering to change, and rushed back to his dorm as quickly as he could without running. He just wanted to lock himself in the bathroom, take a hot shower, and cry.

He was just drying off when he heard Blaine calling his name. He quickly dressed and stepped out into the room. The curly haired boy gave him a concerned look. "Headache worse again?"

"Yeah, a little."

"I'll get you some more medicine for it. Why don't you lay down until dinner time? Don't worry about your homework right now, I'll help you with it later."

Kurt nodded and got back in bed while the shorter boy went to get the headache medicine from the bathroom, along with a glass of water. He took the pills and had just laid down when his phone chimed an incoming call. He glanced at the screen before he answered.

"Hey, dad."

"Hey, kiddo. How was your first day?"

"Okay, I guess, except I woke up with a killer migraine this morning."

"A migraine? Are you okay now?"

"Yeah, I think the stress just got to me. I'm going to take a nap before dinner and see how I feel then."

"Okay, bud. I won't keep you on the phone long, then. I just wanted to know if you are still planning on coming home this weekend?"

"I think so. I'll call you Thursday after classes if things change."

"Good. Get some rest, then. Love you, kid."

"Love you too, dad."

He hung up the phone, and closed his eyes.

…

Blaine was sitting at his desk an hour later when he heard a disturbance behind him. He turned around and saw Kurt thrashing on the bed, whimpering in fear. He heard the boy cry out, "No! Don't touch me! Stop! Please, stop!" And then Kurt sat up with a scream, panting for breath and covered in sweat.

It took the boy a moment to realize where he was, and then to realize he wasn't alone. "I'm sorry," he said, voice cracking. He had to clear his voice before he could speak again. "Bad dream."

Blaine studied him for a moment. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Kurt wouldn't look at him. Blaine made a decision and then went to sit beside the pale boy. "How about I tell you what happened to me, and then if you want to, you can tell me your story? You don't have to, but if you want to, I'll listen."

Kurt settled back against the headboard, and nodded. Blaine sat beside him, getting comfortable. "Last year, I came out at my old school. There was another boy, Victor, who was also out. He and I were friends. Not boyfriends or anything, just friends. We both got picked on, pushed around, but it wasn't that bad. And then some friends invited the two of us to join them at the Sadie Hawkins dance. We went as a group, and we had fun, we all danced together. Victor and I didn't even do anything that would make anyone think there was anything between us.

"After the dance, he and I were waiting for his dad to pick us up, when several boys in a pick up truck jumped us, and beat the crap out of us. I mean it was bad, I thought they were going to kill us. Victor tried to cover me. I ended up with a concussion, two broken ribs, a broken collarbone, and had to have my spleen removed. Victor had a major skull fracture, and lost the vision in one eye. He also had a broken arm, four broken ribs and damage to his kidney.

"My parents decided to send me here, not for my safety, but because they didn't know what else to do with me. They just want me to be normal, like my brother. They figure by sending me here they don't have to deal with it anymore."

Kurt felt bad for the boy. "I'm sorry."

Blaine just shrugged. He was used to it by now. "So, do you want to talk about what happened to you now?"

Kurt hesitated, picking at the blanket. "It was my fault. I shouldn't have followed him."

"Start from the beginning. Who did you follow, and where and why?"

Kurt sighed, and put his head down on his knees. "His name is David Karofsky, he's a jock who has spent the last two years making my life a living hell. One day he slapped my phone out of my hand and slammed me into a locker. I got fed up and chased him down in the locker room, confronting him. I yelled at him, calling him pathetic and a scared little boy. I thought he was going to hit me. He didn't. He kissed me.

"I was in a state of shock, I froze up. He shoved me up against a locker and began groping me. I finally came out of my shock and shoved him away. He got angry, threatened to kill me."

"Oh god, Kurt! I'm so sorry!"

Kurt let out a soft sobbing laugh. "I guess we're both kind of messed up, huh?"

Blaine looked sad. "You have no idea."


	3. Breathe Deep

"Please!" The dark haired boy gasped. "Just tell me what you want me to do! I'll do whatever you want! Just make it stop!" His body thrashed and trembled as the chemicals raced through him, keeping him on the razor's edge between pleasure and pain.

"I know you will obey me," the distorted voice of the Overseer said. "You always obey, my perfect boy. But I love watching you like this, seeing you fight your true nature. You crave this, don't you? Why try to deny it when the truth is written all over your perfect face?"

"What do you want?" He sobbed, refusing to admit that what the Overseer said was true.

"I want you to mentor Kurt Hummel, soothe his fears, be his friend. I want you to help him become used to casual contact, innocent touches."

"Why? What are you going to do to him?"

"He's special. Nearly already perfect in every way. The Masters have plans for him, which is why he was given a scholarship. He just needs some help to reach his full potential. Do you understand?"

"Yes."

"Good, my perfect boy. Sleep now. You will remember what to do when the time is right."

…

Kurt's second morning at Dalton started out less dramatically than the first. He slept until his alarm clock went off, and only had a very minor headache as he showered and got dressed.

Blaine had been true to his word the night before, helping him finish his homework after dinner. There hadn't been too much, an essay for History about Frankish kings, two pages of problems for Calculus, a short essay for French, and a page of questions for Science. His headache had gotten worse again while he'd been doing the History work, but all in all things had gone smoothly. He'd finished everything by nine thirty, and been asleep by ten.

Blaine was awake by the time he finished in the bathroom. "Morning. Feeling better?"

Kurt smiled shyly. "Yeah. Head still hurts a little, but it's bearable."

"Do you want another migraine pill?"

"No, I think I'll be okay."

"Good. Let me get ready and we can walk down to breakfast together."

Fifteen minutes later they entered the dining hall and got their trays. Kurt chose an egg white omelet with low fat cheese and bell pepper, along with yogurt with blueberries and granola, and orange juice. Blaine had a Denver omelet, whole wheat toast, and apple juice.

As they headed towards the Warbler's table, Kurt felt self conscious. "Maybe I should sit somewhere else. I'm not actually a Warbler."

"Nonsense," Blaine declared, shifting his tray and taking Kurt by the elbow. "I guarantee that by dinner tonight, you will be a Warbler, so you might as well join us now."

"How can you be so sure I won't blow my audition?"

As they reached the table and set down their trays, Blaine's hand switched from Kurt's elbow to twine their fingers together. Kurt refused to admit to himself that a thrill of excitement went up his spine at the contact. "You'll be amazing, Kurt. I've heard you sing before. You couldn't blow it if you tried."

Kurt almost choked on the sip of orange juice he had just taken. He had deliberately blown Defying Gravity last year, to save his dad the heartache of having people yelling at him that his son was a fag. It still bothered him when ever he thought about it. It was why he planned on singing it for his audition today.

He was distracted from his thoughts by the arrival of Wes and David. The Asian boy smiled at him kindly. "Feeling better this morning?"

"Yes, thank you."

"Good. When you finish eating, I'll show you to your English class. Your schedule today is the same as yesterday, except for last period, when you will have US Government instead. You only have Phys Ed on Tuesdays and Fridays."

Kurt just nodded, relieved that he wouldn't have to deal with that particular torment on a daily basis.

David frowned when he noticed Kurt's tray. "Is that all you are eating?"

"Yeah, why?"

"You really should eat more. I heard Mr. Higgins and the dietitian talking, and they think you should gain a little weight."

Kurt just shrugged. "I've always been a light eater." The three other boys exchanged a concerned look, though Kurt didn't notice.

English class was fun. They had a substitute, as Mr. Jensen had opted to stay home with his wife and new baby girl. The substitute gave them an assignment to write a short two page story about themselves. She said it could be autobiographical, or something completely made up. Kurt opted to write it as if he was from the future and had come back in time to do the assignment, telling about his life in New York, and about becoming the first LGBTQ president. The substitute had been impressed with his creativity and had read his story out loud. He'd been embarrassed at first, but the other boys all seemed to like the story as well.

History class was bad. His headache was back again. Still not as bad as the morning before, just a dull throb that he couldn't seem to shake. But once again he had managed to remember every single important date. The pain faded in French class, and by Calculus had faded entirely.

He sat at the Warbler table again for lunch. He'd selected a grilled chicken sandwich with tomato, avocado, red onion and honey Dijon mustard on multigrain bread with a side of cottage cheese.

Blaine sat beside him, eating a turkey club stacker with fries and extra pickles on the side. "Have you decided what to sing for your audition this afternoon?"

"Yes, I'm going to sing Defying Gravity."

"Hmm, it's a good song, and I know you can sing it, but don't you think it's a little on the safe side?"

Kurt frowned. "What do you mean?"

"I'm not trying to worry you, or upset you, but that's pretty much what they would expect you to sing. Perhaps you should try something unexpected."

"Like what?"

Blaine swallowed the bite of sandwich he was eating before answering. "Maybe something that shows the full range of your voice. Just think about it, okay?"

Kurt nodded and continued eating, when a thought struck him. "So, if quiet time is from four to six thirty, how do the Warbler's get away with having auditions and practices at four thirty?"

Blaine smiled. "You'll find out this afternoon. I'll walk you to The Chamber. That's where we rehearse."

Kurt's last three classes of the day passed slowly, and he kept thinking about what Blaine had said at lunch. Was Defying Gravity the safe choice? Was there something else he could sing that would show his full potential, while remaining true to his style? A couple of songs came to mind, and he knew he could do either of them on the fly.

After class he returned to his dorm to prepare. He grabbed his iPod, which had all the instrumental versions of his songs on it. He scrolled down to Defying Gravity, considering, and then scrolling to his second option. It was definitely riskier, and definitely showed his vocal range to perfection. But was it too risky?

He still hadn't decided which song to do when Blaine came to get him. "Relax," The dark haired boy said. "You'll be perfect, no matter which song you choose to do."

"Even if it's not Top 40?"

Blaine laughed at that, and took his hand as they walked down the stairs. "Even if it's not Top 40. We can't all be Katy Perry."

"Thank Gaga for that."

"Hey!" They both laughed.

Kurt looked around when Blaine lead him through a thick, heavy looking doorway, and down a flight of stairs. "Welcome to The Chamber. These rooms are sound proof, so we don't disturb the rest of the school during quiet time. Have a seat and relax. We'll call you back when we are ready for you. Just take it easy, and remember, breathe deep." He indicated the over stuffed leather couches that looked comfortable enough to sleep on.

Kurt took a seat as Blaine moved on to the main chambers, closing the doors behind him. The pale boy scrolled through his iPod, still debating between songs when he noticed the scent of sage filling the room, and glanced over at the fire place. It was pleasant, and soothing. Kurt could feel the tension slipping from him, and he began to relax.

Why had he been so nervous? He knew he was an amazing singer. He knew what song he was going to sing. Kurt felt himself relaxing even more, feeling almost trance like when Blaine called his name.

"We're ready." The darker boy smiled. Kurt could only smile back as he stood. "Do you know which song you are going to perform now?"

Kurt nodded, and handed him the iPod, song ready. Blaine looked at it, and smiled. "Perfect. Come inside."

Kurt felt a little strange as he entered The Chamber. Uninhibited by nerves or self consciousness. When the music started, he couldn't help moving with the beat. It was almost as if something possessed him, freeing him of worry or shyness. He hadn't intended to dance for the audition, but he found he couldn't help himself as he began to sing.

Comin' home used to feel so good  
I'm a stranger now in my neighborhood  
I've seen the world at a faster pace  
And I'm comin' now from a diff'rent place

Though I may look the same way to you  
Underneath there is somebody new

I am not the boy next door  
I don't belong like I did before  
Nothin' ever seems like it used to be  
You can have your dreams, but you can't have me

Kurt moved around the room, no hint of embarrassment as he smiled and flirted as he danced. Somewhere deep in the back of his mind he knew this wasn't him, this wasn't how he behaved. It was almost like he was someone else completely.

Oh, I can't come back there anymore  
'Cause I am not the boy next door

You've been savin' those souvenirs,  
Faded photographs from our foolish years  
We made plans, but they're wearin' thin  
And they don't work out 'cause I don't fit in

And those mem'ries will just weigh me down  
'Cause I got no place to keep 'em uptown

I am not the boy next door  
I don't belong like I did before  
Nothin' ever seems like it used to be  
You can have your dreams, but you can't have me

Oh, I can't go back there anymore  
'Cause I am not the boy next door

I'm not sorry for just bein' me  
But if you'd look past the past you could see  
That I am not

Nothin' ever seems like it used to be  
You can have your dreams, oh, but you can't have me

As the end of the song drew closer, Kurt began to feel light headed and dizzy, and his dancing actually faltered for a moment, but he kept going, a frown on his face now as he began to feel ill.

I can't go back there anymore  
'Cause I am not  
I am not  
I am not the boy next door

The music faded out, and as it did, Kurt felt as if strings had been cut, and he collapsed to his knees, the world fading out just as the music had.

…

Dehydration. That was what the nurse had said when he woke up in her office a short while later. He'd been so embarrassed. He'd never passed out before. Blaine had been by his side when he woke up, and had smiled and hugged him.

"Your audition was amazing, Kurt. The Warblers loved it."

"Even the part where I lost consciousness at the end?" Kurt snarked.

Blaine laughed a little. "Well, okay, not that part. But they did like your singing and your dancing. The vote was unanimous. Welcome to the Warblers!"

…

There were cheers and applause when Kurt entered the dining hall for dinner that night. Boys he hadn't met kept coming up and congratulating him, patting him on the back. At first he'd been embarrassed, but Blaine smiled and told him to get used to it.

"You're a rock star now, Kurt."

He still couldn't believe it. He'd gone from bottom of the food chain at McKinley, to the top dogs at Dalton. He was one of the popular kids, and he hadn't even had to try very hard.

They finally made it to the food line, and Kurt considered the options. He started to reach for the salmon with rice pilaf and asparagus, but Blaine stopped him.

"Come on Kurt, live a little. Have the pizza. It's remarkably good. The crust is made in New York."

Kurt frowned on the high school staple. "All they have is meat eaters. I prefer veggie pizza."

"It has tomato sauce. Tomatoes are a vegetable."

Kurt rolled his eyes. "No, thank you. And if you want to be technical, tomatoes are a fruit." He took the salmon dish, along with a small side salad with light Italian dressing. He also took two water bottles.

"Fine, be that way, but you will have dessert. Your choice, chocolate mousse cake or lemon chiffon."

Kurt laughed. "Okay, okay, lemon chiffon. But just a small piece!"

As they sat down at the Warbler's table, they were greeted with friendly smiles, and more congratulations.

"Your audition was fabulous, Kurt!" Jeff exclaimed, leaning against his boyfriend, Nick, who also smiled at him.

"I don't think anyone else in the group could have pulled that off." The darker haired Warbler agreed.

"Thank you." Kurt frowned slightly at the memory. He remembered the almost trance like feeling he'd had as he auditioned. He knew dehydration could cause confusion. Was that why he'd felt so strange at the time? And was that why he'd had such bad headaches the last couple of days? He reached out and grabbed one of the water bottles, and drank it down.

…

He was finishing up his calculus homework later that evening, feeling the headache building again as he messed up a couple of the problems, when his phone rang, the sound of And I am Telling You sounding in the room. He smiled as he answered.

"Hey, Mercedes!"

"Hey, Boo! How are things at the new school?"

"Mostly good."

"Mostly?"

"Yeah, I woke up yesterday with a killer migraine, probably brought on by all the stress. And today I passed out after my audition to join the Warblers."

"You passed out?" The Diva sounded on the verge of freaking out.

"I'm okay, I was apparently just dehydrated. But the Warblers loved my audition, and I got in!"

"I'm so happy for you, White Boy!"

"Thanks, 'Cedes! How are things going at McKinley?"

"Same old drama, just a different day. Glee club isn't the same without you to gossip with and make fun of Rachel's outfits."

"I miss you too."

"So, you find a cute boy to crush on?"

Before Kurt could answer, Blaine came into the dorm, having been in the library researching a paper for geography class. He smiled when he saw Kurt on the phone.

"Uh, Mercedes, my roommate just walked in. His name is Blaine, and he's in the Warblers, too."

"Uh huh. Is he a hottie?"

Kurt tried to hide his blush and sound casual. "Very."

His best friend laughed. "Okay, sweetie, I'll talk to you later. Have fun ogling the hot roommate."

They said their good nights, and hung up.

"You didn't have to hang up on account of me." Blaine said, going to the closet to get his pajamas.

"It's okay. My friend Mercedes just wanted to see how I was doing after my first couple of days here."

"That's nice of her. Are you almost finished with your homework?"

"Yeah, I just have a short summary to write for my Government essay."

"Good. I'm finished too. Want to watch a video? There's a bunch in the cabinet over there. You can pick if you want."

"Sure, sounds fun. I'll just be about five minutes on this, and then I'll see what you've got."

"Great. I'm just going to shower and change."

Kurt finished his assignment just as he heard the shower turn off. He put away his books and papers, and went over to the cabinet to check out the videos. He was pleasantly surprised to find they had similar tastes in movies. Blaine had almost every Disney movie ever made, plus several musicals and some film noir videos. He smiled when he saw one of his favorites, and pulled it out.

"What did you pick?" Blaine asked, toweling his hair dry as he came out of the bathroom wearing pajama bottoms and a tank top.

Kurt held up the case. "Rent. The movie version, though I see you also have the stage version. It's one of my favorites."

"Mine too! I'll set it up and get us some snacks while you shower and get ready for bed."

Kurt nodded and handed over the case, their fingers brushing lightly. He showered quickly, doing a shortened moisturizing routine, and got into his pajamas.

When he returned to the main room, Blaine was sitting on his bed with his laptop sitting on his legs. Kurt hesitated a moment before slipping on to the bed beside him. Blaine just looked up and smiled at him. "Ready? I have popcorn and diet coke, if you want it."

"Sounds good."

They had to sit close to each other to be able to see the screen, and at first Kurt was a bit stiff.

"Come on, Kurt, relax. I don't bite." the smaller boy put his arm around Kurt's shoulders. "You'll end up with a sore neck, and probably another headache, if you sit like that. Here, snuggle up. I don't mind if you don't."

Kurt settled into the other boy's side, getting as comfortable as possible. "There, that's much better," Blaine said, and started the movie.

It was surprisingly nice to cuddle with Blaine. The boy was so warm, and Kurt couldn't help breathing in his scent, which was woodsy and masculine. As they watched the movie, the smaller boy began rubbing soothing circles on Kurt's back, tracing his fingers lightly over the exposed skin on his arms. Kurt found himself drifting off, breathing in the boy beside him.


	4. Desire to Obey

The Overseer observed the monitor, watching his protege interact with the pale boy, saw him manipulate the boy into laying down with him. The Overseer knew when the sedative he'd ordered Blaine to put into the boy's moisturizer began to take effect. This sedative wasn't as powerful as the one in the candle, but it was effective for their needs tonight.

The shrouded Overseer reached out and picked up what appeared to be a remote control and pressed a button. He saw Blaine flinch as a soft chime sounded in the dorm room, but as he'd been conditioned to do, the boy reached into the drawer in the table between the two beds and took out a small pill bottle, dutifully swallowing the mild narcotic.

Smiling, the Overseer tapped out something on the keyboard, and hit send. Moments later he could see the boy receiving his reward for obeying, as Oxytocin and endorphins slowly began to flood his system. The mysterious figure then rose and took the shortcut to the dorms, stopping outside room 412.

…

Blaine stared at the unconscious boy in his arms, the drug already affecting his mind. The pale boy looked so beautiful in his sleep, so sweet and innocent. He couldn't help reaching out and brushing loose hair off the angelic face. His fingers lingered, lightly brushing over the soft cheek, the masculine cut of the jaw line. Blaine knew the chemicals spilling through him were stealing his control, and he tried pulling away from the other boy, but temptation proved too much, and before he realized what he was doing, he had unbuttoned Kurt's pajama top, and was staring down at the expanse of pale pink flesh over subtle muscle.

He wanted to trace the flesh with his tongue, to see the boy writhe with pleasure. He wanted the other boy to feel the same addictive pleasure he was feeling even now. He wanted to take the innocent boy and corrupt him, show him the joy of being filthy.

"You want him," The distorted voice of the Overseer said from behind him. Blaine didn't even react, his sole focus on the boy in front of him. "Touch him."

Blaine had no willpower what so ever. He slowly slid his hands down over Kurt's chest, thumbing one small nipple. Kurt gasped and arched into the touch, but didn't wake up. The curly haired boy circled the stiffening peek once more, and the blue eyed boy thrashed, a needy whine emitting from him.

Blaine was so aroused by the flush on the auburn haired beauty's face. He slid one of his hands down over his own groin, pressing the palm of his hand against his erection and crying out in pleasure.

"That's enough for now," the Overseer commanded, and with a choked sob, Blaine pulled away from the other boy. "When the time for his conditioning in that area comes, I will allow you to instruct him, if you continue to behave. Now move to your own bed and sleep."

Blaine obeyed, although reluctantly, as the Overseer moved to stand next to Kurt. He rolled the pale boy on to his stomach and examined the tiny incision behind the left ear where the small chip had been implanted two nights before. It was healing well. The tall, lean figure allowed his fingers to trail down Kurt's back, and over the firm swell of the boy's ass, giving the twin globes a firm squeeze. The pale boy made a sound of distress, and began to roll away. The Overseer laughed cruelly, but removed his hands.

…

Kurt woke up with tears in his eyes, having been plagued by nightmares most of the night. Well, most of his dreams had been nightmares, but he was certain they hadn't started out that way. He'd dreamed that Blaine had touched him, and he had liked it. But then Blaine had morphed into Karofsky, and Kurt was once again trapped against the lockers.

He wiped at his eyes, and glanced over to the other bed, but Blaine wasn't there, nor was he in the bathroom. Kurt showered quickly and got dressed. Blaine still hadn't returned by the time he was ready to go down to breakfast.

He glanced around the dining hall, but there was no sign of the overly gelled head. The pale boy sat at the Warblers' table as usual, smiling at Wes and Thad, the only two there at the moment.

"Have either of you seen Blaine? He was gone when I woke up this morning."

"He went for a jog. He should be back soon." Wes said kindly. "Just so you know, you're schedule is a little different this morning. After English, you'll go to computer lab three instead of History, and then after your French class, you have an appointment with Mr. Higgins and the nutritionist to talk about your Phys Ed requirements and your diet."

Kurt just nodded as he ate his oatmeal. No History today sounded fine to him. He didn't know what it was, but his headache always seemed to come back in that class. Was there something in there he was allergic to?

As for the meeting about his diet, he was not looking forward to that. He could see Wes studying the small amount of food on his tray disapprovingly. Other than the oatmeal, Kurt had an apple and a glass of orange juice, and nothing else. He'd always been a very lite eater. His parents had consulted a doctor about it once when he was younger, and the doctor said that his diet was fine, that he was growing at the proper rate, and not to concern themselves over it unless he stopped gaining weight or growing. He always made healthy food choices, as well.

The table filled up quickly, and Blaine arrived shortly before the end of breakfast. He was talking with Trent, and Kurt barely had a chance to say good morning before he had to get ready for class.

They had a different substitute in English that morning, and while this one wasn't as fun as the one the day before, they did give out an interesting assignment. They were told to choose a book that was made into a movie and compare the two in a three page essay. Kurt was almost half finished with his before the end of the period.

When he arrived at computer lab three, he was greeted by a cheerful British accent. "Ah, you must be Kurt Hummel. Welcome to computer lab three. All of the cubicles are occupied at the moment, so why don't you have a seat and relax. Would you like a cup of tea?" The man was slightly taller than Kurt, with salt and pepper hair and beard, and the strangest shade of brown eyes Kurt had ever seen. They were almost the color of cafe au lait.

Kurt was a bit surprised by the offer, and started to decline, but the man tutted at him. "Never decline the offer of tea with an Englishman. I'm Mr. Parson, by the way, forgive me for not introducing myself right away."

Kurt accepted the tea in a delicate little china cup, smiling as he recalled various tea parties with his mom and dad. He was also offered a cranberry scone.

"Thank you," he said after a sip of tea. "What part of Britain are you from?"

"London, originally, but my mum moved around a lot for work after my dad died."

"I'm sorry. My mom passed away when I was eight."

"My condolences, and thank you. So, what brings you to Dalton? I'm guessing bullies."

Kurt nodded around a bite of scone. "Yeah, it got to the point I feared for my life," He said after he swallowed. "One guy threatened to kill me, after he assaulted me."

"Poor boy. And how are you finding it here so far?"

"Everyone has been so nice to me, it's kind of strange."

The older man laughed. "You'll get used to it. Ah, looks as if Trent is finished with cubicle six. Finish up your snack and we'll get you set up."

Kurt smiled at his fellow Warbler as he finished his tea and the last bite of his scone. Except for that morning at Breakfast, this was the first time he had seen the other boy since the seizure. The boy seemed pale, and a little shaky as he smiled back at Kurt, and left without saying a word.

"Come along, Mr. Hummel." Kurt followed the teacher to the vacant cubicle and sat down in the rather comfortable chair. "Put on the earphones and open the file with your name on it, and open session one. You'll watch a short twenty minute video, and then answer some questions."

Kurt nodded and did as instructed. The video basically went over the rules at Dalton, and what was expected of the boys there. The voice speaking was almost a drone in his ears, the voice's cadence lulling him into a stupor, almost hypnotic, but he tried to pay attention. When it came time to answer the questions, he felt almost light headed.

Question number one;

Which of the following are considered minor transgressions that receive a warning the first time?

A) Running in the hallways

B) Being too loud during quiet time

C) Not properly disposing of your trash in the cafeteria

D) All of the above

Kurt chose D and hit enter.

Question number two;

True or false, being late to class is a class two transgression and is punishable as seen fit by the instructor.

Kurt clicked on True.

The questions went on in that manor, and Kurt answered them without even really having to think about them.

Question number fifteen;

What is the most important thing to remember at Dalton?

Kurt typed the answer and clicked send, not even seeming aware of what he typed;

I must obey at all times.

…

French class seemed to fly by, and before Kurt knew it, he was sitting in a small office with Mr. Higgins and a middle aged woman who wore a perpetual frown. She was introduced as Ms. Clark.

"We've gone over your assessment, and I concur with Mr. Higgins. He has set up a regimen for you in Phys Ed that will work on muscle definition. We also want you to increase your carb and protein intake slightly. I want you to add one starch per meal, and one protein per day."

Kurt frowned. "My doctor said that my weight was fine, and that the diet I'm on now is good for me."

The woman seemed to frown even harder. "I'm certain he did, however he is not a trained dietitian. By making these minor changes to your eating habits, you will gain the desired muscle tone, and have more stamina for your dancing, and other activities."

"I can try, but I'm not sure I can eat that much."

The woman seemed to attempt a smile, but it seemed more like a malicious grin. "I'm certain you'll follow my instructions."

After that, the dietitian left, and Mr. Higgins began outlining what was expected of him in Phys Ed.

"We will re-evaluate you every two weeks to check on your progress. I expect results by the end of the month."

Kurt nodded his head in acquiescence. He was then excused to go to lunch.

He chose the chicken sandwich again, along with cottage cheese, to which he added sunflower seeds. That covered his extra protein for the day, but as he glanced over the carb choices, nothing seemed appealing to him. He chose to forego it for now, and took his tray to the Warbler's table.

Wes sat beside him. "Hey Kurt, I just wanted to let you know I've added extra Warbler's practices this weekend, to get you up to speed on our routines before Sectionals next week."

"Oh," Kurt said, startled. "I was going to go home this weekend."

"I'm sorry, Kurt, but we really do need to rehearse. Maybe you could go home after Sectionals?"

Kurt was disappointed, of course, but he knew the Warblers would need time to work him into their arrangements and teach him the choreography. "Okay. I told my dad I'd let him know after classes today if I wasn't going to come home or not."

The handsome Asian smiled, and then glanced at his tray of food. "You need another starch."

Kurt frowned. How did Wes know what the nutritionist had said? "They didn't have anything else that I liked."

"You do know that things like broccoli and mashed potatoes count, don't you?"

Kurt shrugged. "I don't like broccoli, and mashed potatoes don't exactly go with a sandwich."

Wes frowned, but didn't say anything more on the subject. Blaine and the others soon joined them, and talk turned to rehearsals and Sectionals. Kurt finished his lunch, feeling a headache coming on again as he put up his tray and threw out his trash. A sharp pain lanced through his head, and he almost stumbled as he started to leave the dining hall.

Blaine was suddenly standing beside him, holding out a banana. "Here, eat this. It will help, and drink a bottle of water. You're probably still a little dehydrated."

"Thanks."

"Maybe you should listen to the nutritionist, and eat what she told you to eat."

Kurt glared at him. "How does everyone know what she told me to eat?"

"Because we've all been there before. It's part of Dalton's reputation for excellence. The boys that come out of here are intelligent, poised, and healthy."

"I am healthy. I had a check up with my doctor just a couple of months ago, and he said I was in excellent condition, and that my diet was just fine."

Blaine sighed. "Well, you should at least try to comply. You've already passed out once due to dehydration. You don't want to pass out from low blood sugar or something more serious."

Kurt didn't know what to say to that, so just ate the banana and drank the water. The headache did seem to subside after he ate. Maybe there was something to what they were saying after all.

…

He finished his afternoon classes without any more issues, and then went back to his dorm to call his dad. He was still disappointed not to be going home for the weekend, and it showed in his voice as he spoke.

"Are you sure you're okay, kiddo?" His dad asked.

"I'll be fine, dad. It's just taking some time to adjust to the pace here at Dalton. I love you, and I'll see you next week after Sectionals, I promise."

"Okay, bud. I love you too. Don't stress yourself out too much."

Kurt hung up the phone, and glanced at the clock. He had a couple minutes before he had to leave for his first Warbler's practice, and went to the bathroom to freshen up a little. He studied himself in the mirror for a moment. He'd never had issues with stamina while dancing before, and wasn't interested in becoming too muscled out. He didn't understand why they thought he needed to.

With a sigh, he made his way out of the dorm and down to The Chamber.

…

Practice was exhausting. His headache came back halfway through the second run through of Hey Soul Sister, as he'd made a misstep in the choreography. It had gotten worse every time he'd made a mistake. He attributed it to frustration at not being able to do the simple side step movements.

By the end of practice his headache was a steady throb. He drank a bottle of water as he walked to the dining hall. He didn't really feel like eating, but knew he would get a lecture. He selected a salad with grilled chicken, mandarin oranges, strawberries, blueberries, and blue cheese crumbles, with a berry balsamic vinaigrette. Blaine, who was in line behind him, frowned, and began to say something, but Kurt cut him off.

"Please, I don't want to hear it. I'm tired, my head is killing me, and I really have no appetite. I'm going to take this back to the room and try and get some homework done."

…

Thirty minutes later, the Overseer observed Blaine return to the dorm room and find Kurt curled into a fetal position on his bed, sobbing and clutching his head, the salad uneaten on the bedside table. The dark haired boy frowned in concern, and went to the side of the bed, holding out a multigrain roll.

The pale boy looked at the roll, tears still streaming down his face. He didn't speak, but reached out and took the roll, and with a choked sob, began to eat it. The Overseer typed out a command on his keyboard, and hit enter.

…

Blaine sat down next to the blue eyed boy, rubbing soothing circles on his back. He could see those beautiful orbs dilate as Oxytocin and endorphins began to flood his system. The tears faded, and he ate more of the roll, shivering as drugging pleasure filled him.

Blaine smiled softly at him. "Doesn't it feel so much better to obey?"

Kurt moaned and closed his eyes as he finished the piece of bread, leaning back against the shorter boy. "So good..."


	5. Doubts

Kurt knew something wasn't right, but in his current blissed out state, he couldn't think what it was. The combination of Oxytocin and endorphins flooding through him made every sensation more intense. Blaine was feeding him the salad he'd brought up earlier, and even the taste and the texture of the food seemed to add to the pleasure he was feeling.

He knew he should be questioning what was going on, but the lack of pain for the first time in nearly a week was enough for him not to want to think too much about it, although he had to wonder if he'd been drugged.

"What is happening to me?" He finally managed to ask some time later.

Blaine just smiled. "You're becoming a Dalton boy."

…

Blaine had put a movie on, and the two had been laying side by side on the bed. Kurt wasn't really watching, though, drifting in and out of a lite doze. Now and then a tremor would work through him as the remnants of the chemical cocktail worked themselves out of his body. Blaine wasn't really watching the movie, either. He was watching Kurt. He watched goosebumps form on the pale boy's arm as he barely traced a finger over the flawless skin. Kurt shivered at the touch.

The dark haired boy frowned. He shouldn't be doing this. Kurt wasn't like him, like the others. Kurt didn't belong here. Kurt was pure, and kind, and had a family that only wanted what was best for him. Kurt had friends who loved him and looked out for him. Blaine wanted to protect the taller boy, wanted to warn him, help him escape.

He looked down and watched his hand slide over the older boy's hip. He wanted the boy for himself.

…

For the second morning in a row, Kurt woke alone in the dorm. He was still so confused by what had happened last night, details seemed sketchy in his mind, memories blurred. Had he been drugged? And by whom? Blaine? Why would he do that, though?

He was being silly, Kurt thought. No one drugged him. Perhaps the nutritionist was right. Maybe there was something wrong with his diet. With a sigh, he gathered his clothes and went to take a shower.

He arrived at breakfast half an hour later, and quickly made his selections; an egg white omelet with low sodium ham and mushrooms, toast, fruit, a blueberry muffin, and orange juice. Wes nodded in approval as Kurt set his tray down at the Warbler table. Kurt frowned. He understood the other boy was just worried for him, but didn't like people poking their noses in his business.

He managed to eat all of the omelet and fruit, and half the muffin, when he started to feel full. He still hadn't touched the toast. He forced himself to take another bite of the muffin, but barely managed to swallow it.

Blaine arrived just as Kurt gave up and started to stand, getting ready to put his dishes up. "You didn't finish eating."

"I'm full," Kurt said, unable to keep the surliness from his voice.

"Kurt, you need to eat."

"Damn it, Blaine!" Kurt shouted, slamming his tray back down on the table. "I said I was full! If I tried to take another bite I would throw up all over your loafers! Why does everyone keep trying to make me eat when I don't want to?"

Pain lanced through his skull, and he cried out as he fell to his knees. His stomach lurched, and he nearly threw up. Blaine tried to help him up, but Kurt pushed him away, and staggered to his feet, and clutching his head, he stumbled out of the dining hall. He could hear the other boy calling his name, knew he was being followed, but he didn't stop until he was back in his dorm, sobbing as the pain in his head grew. Something was very wrong with him.

He managed to make it to the bed before his legs gave out, and he fumbled his cell phone from his pocket. He was shaking so bad, he almost dropped it several times before he could unlock the screen.

"Who are you calling?" Blaine asked, rushing in to the room.

"My dad! I want to go home! Something is wrong with me!" Kurt sobbed.

"You can't do that, Kurt," Blaine said, easily taking the phone from Kurt's weak hands.

"I need my phone, Blaine! Please! I need to call my dad!" He tried to grab his phone back from the shorter boy, but another spear of pain drove into his head, and he screamed in agony. "Please! Make it stop! Make it stop!"

...

"I'm sorry!" Blaine wanted to comfort the boy, wanted to take away the pain, but knew he couldn't help him. "You can't call your dad. It would just upset him. You said his heart wasn't good. You don't want to stress him out, do you?"

Kurt continued to sob, but shook his head no. Blaine patted his shoulder. "I'll get you some headache medicine, and you can go back to sleep. I'll let them know you'll be missing your first couple of classes because you don't feel well."

The dark haired boy went into the bathroom, pausing in front of the mirror, and staring at himself. He then glanced up to where the tiny camera was hidden in the corner of the reflective glass.

"You have to stop," he whispered. "You're going to damage his mind, or worse, kill him. He can't force himself to eat if he isn't hungry."

He opened the medicine cabinet and retrieved the migraine pills, and filled a glass of water, wetting a washcloth as well. He carried them all back out to the room, where Kurt lay curled into the fetal position, but he could see the taller boy wasn't as tense, and knew the pain was already lessening.

He set the pills and glass down on the table between the beds, and sat beside the pale boy, gently wiping his face with the washcloth, murmuring softly. Once Kurt began to relax some, he helped him take the pills, and then helped him remove his tie, shoes, and blazer, tucking him into the blankets. "Get some sleep. I'll see you at lunch time."

The boy on the bed barely acknowledged him as he slipped out of the room, taking the other boy's cell phone with him.

…

"Progress report," the voice demanded, as deep and dark as the shadows that hid the imposing figure's face beneath the cowl. The Overseer knew that people often quaked at that voice, but he was so used to it, it hardly affected him anymore.

"The integration of the Hummel boy is progressing as well as to be expected in such a short time, although there is an issue with his diet. His body is rejecting the increased food the dietitian ordered. We may have to seek alternate methods. Perhaps protein shakes."

"Noted. What about the special programming?"

"I've had Anderson working on conditioning him to casual contact. Phase two will begin on Monday."

"Phase two will begin immediately. The client will arrive in just over a week to observe his progress."

The Overseer had never felt any form of regret for what he was helping to perpetuate, but he was a very intelligent person. He could see the possible consequences of rushing the process.

"Permission to speak freely?"

The hooded figure merely nodded.

"Unlike the other boys, whose families don't care what becomes of them, The Hummel boy has a family that will become suspicious if he should disappear. They could cause problems."

"We are aware of the situation, and are prepared to take certain measures to protect our operations. Begin phase two as soon as possible."

"Yes, Master."

…

Kurt woke a few hours later, still feeling a throbbing pain in his head, but determined to make it through the rest of the day. He switched out his uniform pants and shirt with fresh ones, and was just slipping on his blazer when Wes arrived.

"Good, I caught you before you left. There's been a change in plans. After lunch the Warblers are meeting in the Chamber."

Kurt was confused. "What about the rest of my classes?"

The Asian boy smiled at him. "You've been excused from classes for the rest of the day. All the Warblers have. We need all the rehearsal time we can get before Sectionals, and we've been requested to perform a special number for a VIP visitor a week from Monday."

"VIP?" Kurt asked, confused.

"Some senator, I heard. He's considering sending his grandson here, so he's coming to tour the place. The Warblers will entertain him and his guests at an informal gathering later that night."

Kurt found it strange that the singing group would be performing again so close to a competition, but understood wanting to make a good impression on a would be student. "So what are we going to perform for the party?"

"We'll talk about it after lunch. Speaking of which, we should head down, we're almost late."

The thought of food made Kurt's stomach lurch, but he followed the Asian teen to the dining hall. He chose a turkey wrap and fruit salad, along with milk and a bottle of water. Wes didn't even bat an eyelash this time, and Kurt was suspicious. Everyone had been pushing him to eat more, but now no one even seemed to care what was on his tray. And then Blaine arrived carrying his own tray, and set a small glass of some thick, purplish liquid in front of Kurt.

"What's this?" The countertenor asked, eyeing the frosted glass. As he studied the contents, he could see bits of something green mixed into it.

"That is a protein shake, with blueberries, blackberries, and kale. They added double the protein powder and added some potato starch as well. This will help you meet your dietary requirements, without making you feel over full. Drink it after you finish eating."

Kurt continued to eye the glass warily as he ate his lunch. Why did they persist in saying he needed to gain a little weight? It wasn't like he was anorexic or bulimic. Sighing in resignation, he took a drink. It didn't taste too bad, and wasn't as heavy as it looked. He finished it off. Okay, maybe this would work out.

"See?" Blaine said, smiling at him. "You drink two of those a day, breakfast and lunch. You can have them add any kind of fruit or veggie you want, or you can have it with chocolate as an occasional treat."

The dark hair boy reached out and wiped away a smudge of the drink from the corner of Kurt's mouth. The taller boy stiffened, and looked a little shocked by the action, but quickly hid it by standing up and gathering his tray.

…

A short while later in the Chamber with the other Warblers, Kurt would have thought they would go straight into rehearsals for Sectionals, but instead they were discussing the VIP performance. He hadn't really had anything to contribute to the talks, so had just been watching the other boys.

The Chamber seemed awfully warm to him, and he was beginning to feel just a little drowsy, and thought he might have dozed off as he had been studying Nick and Jeff, who were sitting directly across from him, on a love seat. They had been sitting very close together, and Nick had leaned in closer to whisper something into the blonde Warbler's ear. Jeff had turned to smile at his boyfriend.

Kurt's eyelids felt heavy, and he blinked slowly. When he'd opened his eyes again, the two boys across from him were kissing. Kurt wanted to look away, but it seemed like too much work to move his head, and could only watch as the two boys deepened the kiss, until it became something almost obscene, tongues dueling as their hands moved over each other.

It had to be a dream, there was no way this was happening in the middle of Warbler rehearsals. But why was he having that kind of dream? He'd never had one before. He'd never really thought about sex as anything other than an abstract concept before. Oh, sure, he'd tried watching those kinds of videos, but they had been more of a turn off than a turn on.

Kurt was beginning to feel very uncomfortable as the dark haired Warbler unbuttoned the blonde's shirt and and began sliding his hands down over the leaner boy's chest. Kurt couldn't help staring at those abs. He was vaguely aware of someone moving beside him, and felt the blazer being slipped from his shoulders.

"Shh, relax," Blaine whispered in his ear, the sensation sending shivers down his spine. He still couldn't look away from the two boys across the room, even as he felt himself being shifted forward, the shorter boy slipping behind him and pulling him back against his chest. Kurt heard a whimper as he felt hands massaging his shoulders, and briefly wondered if he had made the noise as Nick began to kiss his way down the taller boy's sculpted chest.

The countertenor's breathing became ragged as hands slowly caressed up and down his arms. He could hear Blaine whispering soothing words, though their meaning was lost to him as he continued to watch the blatant PDA across the room.

It's just a dream, he told himself.

…

Blaine despised himself in that moment, but he couldn't help the excitement coursing through him. The way the boy in his lap was reacting was better than could have been hoped for, but in the back of his mind he kept seeing Kurt's face when he had told him about the incident in the locker room of his old school.

Kurt had been a victim, and now he was being victimized again. Without the influence of the drugs in the protein drink and the neuro stimulator that had been implanted in his skull, Kurt would most likely be fighting him off, trying to break free and run.

He should be helping the boy to escape, not indulging his need to touch the other boy.

Oh, but the sounds coming from the pale boy! The whimpers and moans, and that panting little gasp as Blaine's fingers moved slowly up the top of his thighs...

No! Stop! You don't deserve him! He is so much better than you! Let him go! Help him escape...

A keening little whine came from the lithe form in front of him, and the boy's hips lifted and began to gyrate as he watched Nick pleasuring his boyfriend. Blaine barely glanced at the other two boys, more interested in Kurt's reactions.

Blaine forgot about helping the boy escape for the moment, could only think about the flush coloring the boy's cheeks as his arousal grew, and he writhed in Blaine's arms, even though the darker boy had stopped caressing him.

Seeing Kurt's reaction to the visual stimulation, and the mostly tame caresses Blaine had been giving him, made the shorter boy wonder how the boy would react if it was his mouth on Kurt's body...

He had to force the image from his mind. No matter what, he couldn't do that to the other teen. No matter how much he wanted the boy for himself, he couldn't force himself on him. He vowed to himself that he would find some way to protect the other boy.

Even if it killed him.

Blaine knew when the combination of drugs and over stimulation became too much for the pale boy, and wasn't surprised when the boy passed out in his arms.

…

Kurt woke in a cold sweat, fear gripping him. He didn't understand what was happening to him, but knew that whatever it was, it wasn't natural. Someone had done something to him, but he didn't know who, or what, or how. All he knew was that he needed to get away from Dalton before what ever it was drew him in even deeper.

He opened his eyes, determined to escape, only to find a hooded figure standing over him.


	6. Suspicions

Mercedes Jones may not have a Mexican psychic third eye like Santana, but she definitely felt like there was something wrong. She had been trying to text her best friend all weekend, but Kurt hadn't responded until just now, at lunch on Monday.

Srry, was bz w/Warbler practice, 2 tired 2 reply- K

She frowned down at the message. There was no way in hell Kurt Hummel had typed that. Kurt hated text speak, always composing his text like a formal letter. Either someone at that prep school had stolen his phone, or there was something seriously wrong. She decided to skip the rest of her classes and go check on her friend.

Two hours later she stood outside the intimidating gates of Dalton Academy. The place looked like a cross between a museum and a minimum security prison.

As she passed through the entry way, she felt a sense of foreboding. An older woman sat at a reception desk, speaking on the phone. She hung up as Mercedes approached. "May I help you?"

"Uh, yeah, I'm here to see Kurt Hummel?"

"Is he expecting you?" The receptionist typed something on her computer.

Mercedes shook her head no. "I just want to see how he's doing. He hasn't responded to my texts."

"I'm afraid Mr. Hummel is unavailable right now. He is in Computer Lab One, and can't be disturbed."

"When will he be finished? Can I wait for him?"

"I'm sorry, but as soon as he finishes it will be time for him to go to Warbler practice. Would you like me to let him know you stopped by?"

The dark skinned Diva frowned. "Yeah, please let him know Mercedes was here."

…

His heart was racing, pounding in his ears. Sweat coated his skin. His nerves were so sensitive he could feel every movement of the air around him. He couldn't stand it anymore.

"Please!" He sobbed.

"Please what?" the distorted voice sounded in his ear.

He shook his head, not knowing what it was he wanted. He couldn't think. He could only feel.

"He's too sensitized," another voice said, almost pleadingly. "Leave him be for a while!"

"Do you want to take his place?" The Overseer hissed.

The dark boy blanched and shook his head no. The hooded figure smiled maliciously. "Then do as you're told. Prepare him for the next phase."

Blaine sighed, and moved to the pale boy's side. "I'm sorry." The apology was barely breathed against the other boy's ear as he repositioned the table the boy was strapped to, sitting it up so that the boy faced the screen. What seemed to be random images began to flash by.

Blaine studied the boy's face as he stared at the images on the screen. He noted when the other boy's breathing became ragged, could tell the other boy was aroused. The pale boy was so beautiful like this. Once again Blaine wanted to be the one causing that look on the other boy's face. For a moment he forgot there was someone else in the room with them.

"What is the most important thing to remember at Dalton?" The Overseer's voice seemed harsh to Blaine's ear.

Kurt sobbed out his answer. "I must obey."

"That's correct. What is the second most important thing to remember at Dalton?"

"Dalton boys are perfect in every way."

"Very good, boy." The Overseer seemed very pleased by the boy's responses. "You want to obey, don't you, Kurt?"

"Yes!" The answer came on a breathless moan.

"Then come for me, now!"

Blaine watched the taller boy as he shattered into a million pieces, keening out his release. It was Beautiful. It was terrible. It was wrong. Kurt deserved so much better. He had to get the other boy away from here before the conditioning was complete, while there was still a chance to save him.

He had a plan, but he knew there was nothing he could do while they were on Dalton grounds. He would have to wait until they went to sectionals. He hoped it wouldn't be too late for the other boy.

…

Mercedes sat in her car for a long while, just staring up at the imposing building. She still couldn't shake the feeling that something wasn't right, but had no idea what she could do. She couldn't go to Kurt's dad and tell him of her worries. She didn't want him to get upset, especially with his weak heart. And she couldn't go to the police, she had no proof of wrong doing. Hell, she had no proof that there was anything suspicious going on at all.

Finally, with a sigh of defeat, she drove back to Lima. When she got home, she texted Kurt again, hoping that he would respond. A few minutes later her phone chimed an incoming text.

I'm fine, 'Cedes. Just stressed out from too much homework, Warbler practice, and everything else. Will see you Saturday at Sectionals.- K

Mercedes reread the text a couple of times. That definitely sounded more like Kurt. Had she just been over reacting? Was it just a misunderstanding? She knew she should have been relieved that everything was fine, but she still had a nagging suspicion in the back of her mind that something was off.

…

Kurt hit send on the text message, and handed his phone back to the Overseer. His expression was blank, emotionless.

The hooded figure smiled at the pale boy. "Very good. You are learning to obey so well, Mr. Hummel. The Masters will be pleased with your progress."

The figure turned to the darker boy who stood in the corner. "Take him back to your dorm. See that he eats, and then he should rest for the night."

Blaine nodded, masking his thoughts as he lead the taller boy down the corridor. Kurt seemed to be succumbing to the conditioning more quickly than Blaine originally thought. Would the boy be able to hold out until Sectionals?

…

Three figures sat in the shadows, their identities hidden from each other by hooded robes. Only the male in the center knew who was concealed under the hoods, he had recruited each of them for this endeavor. Both of them had agendas of their own, of course. The woman had been tossed aside in favor of youthful associates, while the male had been scorned by a woman. Neither of the other two knew that they had more in common than their twisted need for revenge.

He had convinced them that they could get the justice they sought, while turning a profit.

"The client will be at the competition on Saturday to observe the Hummel boy. Should he be satisfied with boy, the plan will be set into motion when the Senator arrives on Monday. The Senator will be accompanied by his grandson. The client has discovered the boy is a homosexual, and wants Hummel to seduce him, putting him in a compromising position. Photographic evidence should be enough for the Client to control the Senator's vote. The client is paying us in excess of one million dollars."

The other 'Masters' glanced at each other. It was the female who spoke first. "While money is nice, what I really want to know is when we will move on to our true target?"

He smirked, though neither of them could see it. "Once our first test with the boys is concluded, then we will move our focus to infiltrating William McKinley. You will both be able to seek your revenge on those who wronged you."


	7. A Simple Command

Kurt felt ill. He knew something was terribly wrong, his will was being methodically stripped away, but he couldn't seem to fight what was happening. The voice in the back of his mind that kept yelling at him to keep resisting was slowly fading out, usurped by the voices that wanted to control him.

He lay curled on his bed, tears silently streaming down his face in the dark. He felt the bed shift as Blaine sat beside him, leaning over him to softly stroke his hair.

"I'm sorry, Kurt," Blaine whispered. "I tried to warn you."

The pale boy could only whimper softly. The darker boy lay behind him, spooning the paler boy. Kurt felt Blaine stroking his arm soothingly, felt the other boy's breath warm on his ear as the shorter boy pressed his mouth to his ear, and whispered so softly Kurt wasn't certain he heard him. "Hold on, Kurt. I have a plan to escape, but you have to hold out until Saturday after the competition."

Kurt shivered, and began to relax, slipping into a dreamless sleep.

…

Blaine felt the other boy relax in his arms, felt his breathing even out as he fell asleep. He knew he had to get the other boy out of here. It was too late for Nick and Jeff, and the other Warblers. They had already fallen under the control of the Overseer and the Masters before Blaine had even arrived at Dalton.

He had no idea why he himself hadn't fully succumbed to the conditioning, his thoughts still remained his own most of the time, except when he was under the influence of the drugs, or when his body was flooded with the Oxytocin and other chemicals. His mind had begun to clear even more when Kurt had first appeared. He hadn't been able to fight his conditioning when ordered to drug the newest Warbler, but in the last couple days since they had accelerated Kurt's conditioning, Blaine had managed to avoid being drugged, and his mind was growing even clearer. If he could just make it to the competition on Saturday without unwanted influence, he knew he'd be able to save himself and the beautiful boy in his arms.

Sighing softly, Blaine closed his eyes, and was soon fast asleep.

…

He woke with a jolt the next morning, confused, and afraid, his heart pounding. Where was he? It took a moment for him to relax, as his surroundings came into focus. His dorm room. And Blaine was sleeping behind him, holding him protectively.

For the moment, his mind was perfectly clear, his thoughts his own. He knew he needed to get away from what ever was going on at Dalton, but he didn't know how. Blaine had whispered to him the night before that he had a plan, but could he trust the other boy? He had come to realize that it had been the curly haired boy who had drugged him on more than one occasion. He knew the shorter boy was also under these people's influence as well, but he seemed to be trying to resist. Could he trust him?

He carefully slipped out of the other boy's arms without waking him, and moved to sit on the other bed, facing the shorter boy. He studied the darker boy intently, recalling that it had been Blaine who had held him last Friday as Nick and Jeff put on their erotic display. He remembered how the other boy had caressed him, adding to the building arousal he'd felt.

Kurt let out a soft moan as he remembered the sensations. Absently, his hand traced up the inside of his thigh, unconsciously following the same path the other boy had. A whimper escaped him as he shifted his hand, pressing the heel into the growing bulge between his legs. He could feel the Oxytocin and other chemicals begin to flood his system, knew that soon his thoughts would cease to belong to him, but he didn't know how to fight it, had no idea what they had done to him.

He sensed the hooded figure behind him, but couldn't look away from the handsome boy laying in his bed, and put up little resistance as the taller figure inserted the syringe into his arm.

…

Blaine began to panic when he woke up to find Kurt gone. He dressed quickly and went searching for the older boy, hoping he wasn't back in the computer lab. He didn't know how much more conditioning Kurt could take before he broke completely.

He breathed a sigh of relief when the labs were empty. But then where was Kurt?

As he wondered towards the dining hall, Blaine began to hear music. He recognized the harmonies of The Warblers, and realized it was coming from the dining hall itself. He quickened his pace, and reached the entrance of the hall just in time to see Kurt climb up onto the Warbler's table and begin singing and dancing.

We've been here too long  
Tryin' to get along  
Pretendin' that you're oh so shy  
I'm a natural man  
Doin' all I can  
My temperature is runnin' high

Cry at night  
No one in sight  
And we got so much to share  
Talking's fine  
If you got the time  
But I ain't got the time to spare  
Yeah!

Blaine was mesmerized by the pale boy and the way he moved his body so suggestively.

Do you wanna touch (Yeah!)  
Do you wanna touch (Yeah!)  
Do you wanna touch me there, where  
Do you wanna touch (Yeah!)  
Do you wanna touch (Yeah!)  
Do you wanna touch me there, where  
There, yeah!

Yeah, oh yeah, oh yeah  
Yeah, oh yeah, oh yeah

Kurt seemed to lock onto Blaine's eyes with his own, and the darker boy couldn't move or look away.

Every girl an' boy  
Needs a little joy  
All you do is sit an' stare  
Beggin' on my knees  
Baby, won't you please  
Run your fingers through my hair

My, my, my  
Whiskey and rye  
Don't it make you feel so fine  
Right or wrong  
Don't it turn you on  
Can't you see we're wastin' time, yeah

Kurt jumped off the table and danced closer to Blaine, who tried to swallow but found his mouth dry.

Do you wanna touch (Yeah!)  
Do you wanna touch (Yeah!)  
Do you wanna touch me there, where  
Do you wanna touch (Yeah!)  
Do you wanna touch (Yeah!)  
Do you wanna touch me there, where  
There, yeah!

Yeah, oh yeah, oh yeah Do ya, do ya!  
Yeah, oh yeah, oh yeah Do ya, do ya!

Blaine was confused, unsure what was happening, until he noticed Kurt's eyes, and saw the tell tale signs of the drugs. This was part of Kurt's conditioning, then. An attempt to free the boy of his inhibitions.

Do you wanna touch (Yeah!)  
Do you wanna touch me there (Oh Yeah, oh yeah)  
Do you wanna touch (Yeah!)  
Do you wanna touch me there (Oh yeah, oh yeah)  
My, my, my (Yeah!)  
Do you wanna touch me there (Oh yeah, oh yeah)

Want to (Yeah!), touch me (Oh yeah, oh yeah)  
Come on, yeah you know you wanna do it  
(Yeah, oh yeah, oh yeah)  
Touch me there, yeah!  
My, my (Yeah!), touch me (Oh yeah, oh yeah)  
My, my, my, my, yeah, yeah  
Touch me there (Yeah!), you know where (Oh yeah, oh yeah)  
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah!

Blaine felt his heart breaking for the other boy. Was it already to late? Had the beautiful auburn haired boy succumbed already?

Yeah, oh yeah, oh yeah

You know where! (Oh yeah)  
Yeah (Oh yeah) yeah (Oh yeah!)

As the song ended, and the room erupted in cheers, Blaine backed away. Time was running out. Was there a way for him to stall Kurt's conditioning before Saturday?

…

"Hey, Trent!" Blaine smiled at his friend, only feeling slightly guilty for what he was about to do. The larger boy stopped and turned to him, his usual sunny smile on his face.

"Hi, Blaine. What's up?"

"I just wanted to know if you are ready for Warbler's rehearsal today?" He slipped his arm around the younger boy as they walked down the hallway. No one noticed when he slipped the package of donuts into the other boy's pocket, knowing the boy would find them, and that his will was weak when it came to sweets.

He chatted with the other Warbler as they made their way into The Chamber. They took their seats, Blaine beside Kurt,and Trent across from them. It was nearing the end of rehearsal when the other Warbler let out a whimper of pain, the seizure taking him to his knees.

Blaine felt sorry for causing the other boy pain, but knew that the Overseer would be too busy with Trent to worry about Kurt, at least for tonight. If he could protect Kurt until Saturday, they might just have a chance to escape.

…

Friday night finally arrived, and Blaine had managed to cause enough distractions among the Warblers to keep Kurt from falling into the Overseer's hands too much, although he hadn't managed to keep him away all together. He was worried about the pale boy. Kurt had been much too quiet the last couple of nights. He hoped it wasn't too late.

Blaine once again lay on Kurt's bed, spooning the taller boy, whispering against his ear. "Just a little while longer, Kurt. After the competition, I promise, I will get us out of here. Just a few more hours. Please, just hold out until then."

…

Rachel Berry was never what one might call empathetic. She was often shallow and self absorbed. She rarely noticed other people's issues, but she noticed there was something different about Kurt when she saw him before the competition. She wasn't exactly certain what it was, though. He seemed to walk a bit taller, his spine straighter, and he seemed more confident of himself, but at the same time, there was just something...off.

Perhaps it was his eyes. They seemed not quite right, but she couldn't figure out just what it was about them that seemed wrong as she spoke to him earlier. And during their performance, she could tell that something was wrong. He wasn't smiling as he should have been. She caught his attention, reminded him to smile, and he did, but it was stiff, forced.

She wanted to talk to him after he got off stage, but didn't get the chance, as New Directions had to prepare to go on themselves. She sighed, and decided she'd talk to him after the competition.

…

Blaine used the chaos backstage to his advantage as they left the stage, grabbing Kurt's hand and pulling him into the crowd from the first group to perform. He lead the older boy towards the back door, intending to get him outside before anyone even noticed they were gone.

They had almost made it to the exit when Kurt tugged his arm, and spun him around. "Where are you taking me?"

"We're getting out of here, Kurt. We're escaping." Blaine tried to smile at him reassuringly, and then turned away again, but only made it a few steps before the other boy tugged on his arm again, dragging him into a side room. "Kurt, what are you doing? We have to get out of here!"

The pale boy didn't say a word, just shoved Blaine up against the wall. Suddenly the taller boy was kissing him. Blaine was too shocked to react at first, but then turned his head away. "Kurt, we can't! Not here! We have to escape!"

The other boy didn't even acknowledge him, simply began kissing him again, holding him in place. Blaine tried to resist, but the temptation of Kurt's mouth was too great. He let out a soft whimper of defeat and returned the kiss. Kurt nipped at his bottom lip, and he opened his mouth for the older boy, who wasted no time before sweeping his tongue inside. They both groaned in pleasure as Kurt pressed their bodies closer.

Panting, the auburn haired boy broke the kiss, and nibbled his way up Blaine's jaw, kissing the spot just under his ear. Blaine shivered in pleasure, but froze as Kurt whispered in his ear.

"I must obey." The younger boy never saw the syringe, but felt the sting of the needle as Kurt jabbed it into his shoulder.

"Kurt?" Blaine said, voice slurring as the drug quickly took effect. The pale boy only smiled down at him as the hooded figure loomed up behind him. The world faded to black.


	8. Trapped

No one would ever call Finn Hudson an observant person. Most of the time he had to have things explained to him. But even he noticed something seemed off about his stepbrother after the competition. He saw the dark haired boy drag him away from their friends. That seemed suspicious to him, and he would have followed them, but Rachel called him back to the green room for warm ups and show circle.

He didn't think about it while they were performing, other to notice that Kurt slipped into the auditorium about halfway through their second song. He was alone, and looked a little rumpled, something he never thought he'd say about the fastidious boy.

Was the other boy Kurt's boyfriend? Had they sneaked off to make out? He cut his thoughts off there, not wanting to imagine his stepbrother kissing another boy.

After they finished their set and the competitors mingled backstage while they waited for the results, he and the rest of the kids from New Directions tried to talk with their former teammate, but his responses seemed kind of clipped and restrained. Finn noticed the older teen's eyes seemed wrong somehow, but he couldn't figure out why.

"So Kurt," he asked, "Do you want to ride home with me after the competition? Burt really wanted to come today, but the garage has been busy since they still haven't fixed all those potholes over on 9th street."

Kurt looked confused for a moment. "Oh, uh. I'm not coming home this weekend. Didn't I call dad and tell him that? I thought for sure I had."

Finn frowned. That definitely didn't sound like Kurt. His stepbrother worried about Burt like a new mom fusses over their first child. He would have called Burt a dozen times to check up on him and remind him if there was a change in plans. And since when has Kurt ever been confused about anything? Finn was the confused one, not the auburn haired boy.

Something was definitely not right.

…

With no hood to hide behind, The Master sat in the darkest corner of the auditorium, watching the curly haired man standing to the side of the stage speaking to the superintendent of schools. Will Schuester had been a thorn in his side for years, and had ruined his life.

The Master smiled to himself. Using one of Schue's little pets to exact his revenge was almost poetic justice. The Hummel boy would be the key to destroying his nemesis, and bring him the wealth to live the lifestyle he should have been living for the last thirty years.

His cell phone signaled an incoming text. It was from the client.

It's a go for Monday. Target is Jeremiah Mathewson, grandson of Senator Mathewson.

He smiled. Yes, everything was going as planned.

…

The Overseer carried Blaine's unconscious body into computer lab one, and lay him down on the table. He brushed the hood of his robe back, his medium brown hair coated with sweat from his exertions. He was about the same age as the boy on the table, tall and lean.

"Damn it, why did you have to interfere?" He growled at the boy, his green eyes flashing with his anger. "You were supposed to be my reward! My prize for perfecting the Masters' conditioning techniques. But now you've nearly ruined everything! And for what, that Hummel kid? He's nothing! A mindless robot now, a tool for the Masters to wield!"

He began to strap the boy down on the steel table as Blaine began to show signs of coming to. "Unfortunately now, I must punish you for your disloyalty."

…

Kurt felt ill. Everything inside him wanted to fight against what was happening, wanted to somehow break free of the stupor he was in, and ask his friends for help, but he was trapped inside his own mind. Couldn't they see that something was wrong? Couldn't they tell that this wasn't him? Did they not realize what was happening? Or did they just not care?

And now Wes was standing beside him, pulling him away from his friends with some excuse about wanting to talk about something or other. He was lead into the green room. The door was closed. Nick and Jeff were there. Nick held out Kurt's cellphone.

"Call your dad," Wes instructed. "Tell him that you have too much homework to finish up, and that you can't come home this weekend after all.

Kurt obeyed. A single tear slipped from his eyes as he lied to his dad, the one person who he could count on since his mother's death. Surely Burt Hummel would realize something wasn't right.

…

Burt Hummel was distracted. The garage had been doing huge business the past week, mostly front end alignments, thanks to some pretty severe potholes in town. And then some punk had gone around putting water and other crap into people's gas tanks, so he'd had several emergency calls over the last 48 hours as well.

He was in the middle of flushing the lines of '86 Thunderbird when his cell phone rang. He almost let it go to voicemail, but remembered Kurt and Finn's competition, and figured it most be over, and one or the other was calling to gloat about winning, or whine about losing. He pulled the device from his pocket and answered it, just as another customer rang the bell for service.

"Kurt?" He said as he made his way into the lobby area.

"Hi dad," his boy said.

"So, did you win or what?" He said, smiling at the gentleman at the counter.

"We're still waiting for the results." His son sounded kind of strange, not his usual snarky self.

"Well, what's up, Kiddo? The garage is pretty busy right now." He handed the customer a form to fill in as he spoke. Covering the phone, he smiled again. "Sorry, my son. He's at a competition today."

The other man nodded in return, a knowing smile on his face as he began to fill out the form.

"Listen, dad, I'm sorry, but I can't come home this weekend after all. I have a ton of homework to catch up on."

"What? Kurt you promised you'd be home today. I was kind of hoping you'd help me out here at the garage. Finn is a good kid, but he doesn't know a lug-nut from a hole in the head!"

"I know, I'm so sorry. I'd trade my Hermes scarf to help you out, but between Warbler's rehearsals and those headaches last week, I really need to catch up on my class work."

Burt frowned. He knew exactly which scarf Kurt was talking about. It had been his Mother's, and she had given it to him just before she passed away. Kurt would never give it up. Something didn't sound right.

"You okay, kid? You aren't sounding like yourself."

"I'll be fine, Dad. I gotta go, they're calling us on stage for the results. Love you, Dad!" He sounded kind of sad.

"Love you, too, Kurt. Just promise me you'll come home soon. I miss you nagging at me."

"I promise, dad. Bye."

Burt ended the call, and stood there staring at the phone for a moment. Something wasn't right. Kurt hadn't even made a remark about taking care of himself. The boy had been fussing at him pretty much nonstop since he'd gotten out of the hospital after the heart attack. And mentioning his Mother's scarf? He'd never even joke about giving it away. Burt knew the item in question was wrapped around a bottle of Elizabeth's perfume and hidden away in the bottom drawer of the old vanity stored up in the attic.

Something was definitely bothering his son. Maybe he'd have to make a trip up to Dalton sometime in the next couple days just to check on the boy. He turned back to the customer, taking his keys and getting his info. Before he'd even finished with the gentleman, two more customers came in.

He hoped he could find the time to go and see Kurt. Maybe he needed to hire a few more mechanics to help out, at least until they fixed those damn potholes.

…

Blaine woke slowly, disoriented and confused. He remained motionless when he heard someone ranting near by as they moved around the room. It took him a moment to realize where he was. Computer lab 1. How had he gotten here? The last thing he remembered was the competition. They'd finished their set, and then he'd tried to escape with Kurt. And Kurt had kissed him!

And then Kurt had drugged him. Blaine wanted to cry. The beautiful boy had succumbed to the conditioning.

He suddenly became aware of the other person in the room again. He realized the voice must belong to the Overseer, but it wasn't distorted by drugs or electronics now. He had never heard the Overseer's voice without the distortion before, but it sounded familiar. He knew that voice from somewhere.

He tried to think, but he must have given away the fact that he wasn't fully unconscious anymore, because the Overseer began strapping him to the table before he could move. He was terrified when he heard the Overseer saying he would be punished, but before the panic could fully set in, he felt the familiar rush of Oxytocin and endorphins.


	9. Breakthrough

Most people tended to dismiss Brittany's ramblings as nothing more than vapid prattle, but not Santana Lopez. She knew most people just didn't understand the blonde girl, but they had known each other since preschool. Santana understood Britt Speak in a way no one else ever could.

So when the airy headed girl said something when they got home from the competition that evening about Kurt having an owie behind his ear that was making him act weird, the Latina paid attention. She had pulled the blue eyed girl aside and asked her about it.

"I saw it when we were all standing there talking to him, before that Asian boy pulled Kurt away. There was a tiny patch of hair missing, and I thought Kurt would be so mad if he realized his hair was messed up. It was just a little red mark, but it wasn't there before he went to that dolphin school. It looked like there was something under the skin there, too."

"You said it was making him act weird, though." Santana prompted.

The blonde girl nodded. "It was making weird noises, like really high pitched, higher even than Kurt can sing. And he seemed so sad. I don't think he liked the high pitch sounds. And his eyes looked weird, too."

Santana had noticed the eyes as well. There just seemed to be something odd about them. They say the eyes are the window to the soul, but Kurt's had appeared blank. If she didn't know how much Kurt detested anything that might ruin his skin and make him look bad, she would have thought he had been on some kind of drug.

Her Mexican psychic third eye was beginning to tingle. Something was definitely not right. She decided she would go up to Dalton first thing Sunday morning and visit Kurt.

…

Blaine lay curled up in the fetal position, silently weeping into his pillow. His head throbbed in agony, his eyes felt like shards of glass were grinding into them. He had been forced to watch the conditioning video with it's subliminal images for hours on end. He hadn't been able to close his eyes at all due to the drops they had put in them, and his head had been strapped in place, so he couldn't even turn away. Every time he had flinched and tried to look away, pain would lance through his skull.

They had released him only about half an hour ago, and he had been in too much pain to do anything but lay there in his bed. He heard Kurt come in, but couldn't open his eyes to look at the other boy. He heard the sink turn on in the bathroom, and the medicine cabinet open. A moment later he felt a cool washcloth on his face.

"Can you sit up?" The pale boy asked softly. Blaine whimpered in reply, but moved when the other boy helped him sit up. The auburn haired boy helped him take the migraine pills, holding the glass and cradling the back of his head. He was laid back down gently, and then the washcloth was placed over his eyes, bringing a measure of relief. He felt the bed shift as the taller boy moved around to the other side and slipped in behind him, spooning him.

Kurt hummed to him softly, a soothing tune, as gentle hands massaged his neck and shoulders, easing his tense muscles. "I'm sorry. I had to obey," he spoke so quietly, Blaine could barely hear him. "They thought you might try something, and ordered me to distract you and stop you from leaving. I tried to resist, please know I didn't want to betray you."

Blaine sighed softly. He didn't blame Kurt, it wasn't his fault. He leaned back against the older boy, trying to convey to him that he understood. They were both trapped in this mess. They fell asleep in each other's arms.

…

Santana arrived at Dalton at around ten on Sunday morning, and walked through the doors with a determined stride. She barely paused at the receptionist's desk as the woman spoke. "Can I help you?"

"I'm looking for Kurt Hummel," Santana said, continuing down the hall.

The receptionist had jumped to her feet. "Young lady, you can't just barge in here like that. If you'll come back here I will call Mr. Hummel and see if he wishes to see you."

Santana glared at her, but didn't stop. "You go ahead and do that, Suzy Sunshine, but whether he wants to see me or not, I'm going to find him. I don't know what is going on in this freak school, but I'm not leaving until I know Kurt is okay, capice?"

A tall boy suddenly stepped out of a doorway in front of her. He smiled, but she didn't think it was very friendly. "I can take you to Kurt."

She sized him up. "Fine, Meerkat, lead the way."

The boy's grin was amused, as he lead her up a flight of stairs. "You're Santana Lopez, aren't you? I recognize you from the competition yesterday. Congratulations on the tie, by the way."

"Whatever. Kurt better be fine, or there will be hell to pay. Two words; razor blades. Hundreds of them, all up in my hair." They went up another flight of stairs and down a long hallway. They stopped in front of room 412. The taller boy was about to knock, but Santana stopped him. "I got this, you can get lost now."

The boy shrugged, grinning, and backed down the hall. Santana watched him go, then knocked on the door. At first there was no sound from inside the room, but after a moment she heard footsteps. Kurt opened the door a crack, and blinked at her in confusion.

"Santana? What are you doing here?"

"I came to check up on you," She said, pushing through the door and past him. She saw the other boy sleeping on one of the beds. "What's his problem, you keep him up all night doing the deed? Wanky!"

Kurt glanced up and down the hall before closing the door. "He's sick, so keep your voice down so you don't wake him!"

The Latina shrugged and turned back to him. "Okay, Lady Hummel, what's going on with you?"

Someone less observant might not have noticed the flinch before the pale boy turned away, but Santana had always been very observant. "I don't know what you are talking about."

She moved closer as he sat down on the unoccupied bed "Cut the crap, I know what a drug induced stare looks like. Have you been popping pills here?"

"Of course not!" His Bitch face almost had her convinced, except he had flinched again.

She shrugged as if she were giving up, and started to turn away. Suddenly she spun back around and knocked Kurt over, grabbing his arm and flipping him onto his stomach before he even realized what was happening. She then grabbed his hair and turned his head so she could examine the spot behind his left ear.

"Holy crap!" She said, finding the incision scar, and seeing the strange lump under it. She released him and stepped back. "What is this, some kind of Stepford operation here? Is someone controlling you, Kurt?"

"Yes, we are." The voice was electronically modified, and came from directly behind her. She spun around and saw the tall figure in a black robe, face obscured by the hood. She made a lunge for the man, But he sprayed something in her face. At first she thought it was mace or pepper spray, but then her thoughts began to fog over, and her motions lost coordination. "Relax, Miss Lopez. Soon you will be happy to obey as well."

…

Kurt watched the Overseer lift the unconscious form of his friend up and carry her out of the room. He was paralyzed, both by fear, and the neuro-stimulator. He wanted to protect the feisty girl, and felt guilty that she had been caught up in this situation. The paralysis faded and he clenched his fists.

He heard Blaine whimper behind him, and went over to the younger boy. He ran his hand through those silky curls. Blaine had managed to fight the conditioning. Maybe Kurt could, if he avoided being drugged long enough. He had to. There was too much at stake now.

…

Before she lost consciousness, Santana had one last thought. Thank God she had installed that new app on her phone.


	10. S.O.S

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The app in this story does not exist, YET. It is still in the early developmental state. It is the brain child of two high school students from Rock Island, IL, and only a handful of people have heard about it yet. I only learned about it because one of the boys is the grandson of my coworker. They came up with the idea after a cousin of the other boy was almost kidnapped by her ex husband. All credit for the concept goes to them.

Monday, 8:00 am.

Will Schuester was smiling as he entered the choir room to prepare for the morning meeting. He'd come up with a brilliant idea for them to try out for Regionals, and couldn't wait for the kids' reactions when he told them. He walked to the white board and wrote in large letters; Sinatra, Martin, Davis. He covered it up with the other sliding board before the students walked in.

8:05 am.

The last of the New Directions filed in and took their seats just as the bell rang. Mr. Schue smiled at them enthusiastically. They were feeling excited after their tie at Sectionals. They couldn't wait to start getting ready for Regionals.

"Good morning boys and girls! Glad to see you all still smiling this morning! But now things get harder, we know what our competition can do. We need to step up our game, and I have the perfect idea."

"Wait, where is Santana?" Mercedes asked.

They all glanced around in confusion then, just realizing the fiery Latina wasn't there. Just then, twelve cellphones pinged incoming text messages. Confused, all of them, including Mr. Schue reached for their phones.

Ten seconds later, there was a chaotic cacophony of voices exclaiming in varying degrees of distress and disbelief, as they all rushed to the door.

Meanwhile, a few miles down the road, Burt Hummel had just arrived at the garage, and was about to start rotating the tires on a Pontiac Sunfire when his cellphone chirped. Expecting it to be a call for an emergency tow, he continued what he was doing, loosening the lug nuts on the tires, before checking the message.

"What the hell!" He shouted before scrambling for his pickup truck.

8:30 am.

Kurt entered the dorm room carrying a breakfast tray, and closing the door behind him. He crossed over to the table between the beds and set it down before turning to check on the shorter boy.

Blaine hadn't moved much in the last twenty four hours, and the pale boy was becoming more and more worried about him. And he was afraid for Santana, whom he hadn't seen since the Overseer had carried her away the previous morning. What was happening to her? Was she okay? Had they hurt her?

He leaned over and gently shook the other boy's shoulder. "Blaine?"

The darker boy mumbled something unintelligible and rolled over, but didn't wake up. Kurt tried once more to wake the other boy, but he only blinked his eyes open for a second before going back to sleep.

Before he could try again there was a knock on the door. Frowning, Kurt answered it and found Wes and David standing there.

"Kurt, come on!" David said. "The Senator and his grandson are early! We need to get down to the commons ASAP."

"What about Blaine? I can't wake him up!" He glanced back at the lead soloist.

"Don't worry about him," Wes replied. "You'll sing lead this time. We know you can pull it off."

Kurt quickly fixed his hair and straightened his tie before following the other two down stairs.

Meanwhile, in Computer Lab One, the Overseer was frowning at the Latina strapped to the table. They had implanted the cortical stimulator earlier this morning, but the girl didn't seem to be affected by it at all, nor was she reacting to the visual stimulation.

He was so distracted, he didn't notice the silently vibrating cellphone among the girl's effects.

9:07 am.

Kurt and the Warbler's finished their performance, and were introduced to the Senator and his entourage, and Kurt was assigned to show the Senator's grandson around the campus. Kurt had already been given the command to lead the boy to a secluded alcove and seduce him. Another boy would be hidden nearby to photograph the two of them in a compromising position, while Nick and Jeff would provide a diversion for the security detail.

Kurt knew he would have to obey the command, no matter how hard he wanted to resist. He was too afraid of what might happen to Blaine and Santana if he fought the conditioning. He smiled at the taller boy and lead him down the hall, telling him about some of Dalton's history and architecture as he studied the other boy.

He wasn't really impressed with the older boy's looks. His eyes were nice enough, but Kurt didn't care much for his hair or the way he dressed. Under other circumstances he wouldn't have given the guy a second look. But he smiled flirtatiously at the older boy, and tried to be seductive as they put a small distance between him and the bodyguard who had followed them.

The boy, Jeremiah, smiled back, and looked Kurt over appreciatively, so he figured he was doing something right.

As they passed through the main hall and past the reception desk, Kurt noticed an officer in uniform speaking to the secretary. Another officer was standing by the door, speaking into his walkie-talkie. His heart began to race as he overheard the first officer ask about Santana Lopez. The receptionist simply shook her head and denied the Latina had ever been there.

Kurt wanted to shout that it was a lie, that the girl was somewhere in the building, but the woman looked at him and frowned. "Mr. Hummel, please take your guest and continue with the tour."

Damn it, he couldn't resist the direct order. "Yes, Ma'am."

He'd only managed to reach the spiral staircase when the front door of the building slammed in and a crowd of students stormed in. Kurt felt the blood drain from his face as he recognized New Directions, as well as Mr. Schue. The receptionist was screeching at them, trying to force them out, but Mr. Schue saw the cops, and marched over to show them the text alert he and the others had all received.

The officer examined it. "It's that new S.O.S text bomb," the younger officer explained. "It works in two ways. If a person feels they are in imminent danger, they can push a panic button, and it will send a text to everyone on their contact list with a GPS location. Or, if they think they may be heading into a dangerous situation, they can write a text explaining what might happen, and set a timer. If they do not enter the password before the timer expires, it sends out the text and GPS location."

Kurt had tried to stop and listen, but was compelled to keep moving up the stairs. Sam spotted him.

"Kurt!" He called out, and everyone turned to look at him.

"I-I have to go, I'm supposed to show Jeremiah around." He said, not stopping.

"Kurt, wait!" Mr. Schue called out.

Suddenly Kurt cried out and clutched at the left side of his head as a high pitched sound sliced through him. Several other boys in the area reacted as well, but none of the McKinley bunch even seemed to notice the whistle. The sound stopped, and Brittany stepped forward, a silver whistle held between her fingers.

"I saw this in a movie once," she said, dreamily, and then raised the whistle to her lips again. Once more the high pitched sound sliced through Kurt's head, and the other boys screamed in pain as they fell to their knees.

The receptionist made a move to snatch the whistle from the blonde girl, but Puck grabbed her and pinned her arms behind her back. "What did you do to Kurt?"

The two officers and Mr. Schue raced forward to examine Kurt and the other boys.

"Look behind their left ears," Brittany said, taking a break from the whistle for a moment. Kurt was sobbing as Mr. Schue examined the spot behind the ear.

"What the hell? Kurt, can you hear me? What is going on?" The teacher held him gently. The officers were calling for more back up, and one of them took the secretary from Puck and Handcuffed her.

Burt Hummel raced into the building then, and spying Kurt sitting on the stairs, rushed over. "What the hell happened?"

"Dad?" Kurt whimpered. More people rushed into the hall, including the Warblers. Brittany blew her whistle again, and all those with the implants cried out and dropped to their knees, clutching their heads.

…

By ten am that morning, Dalton Academy was swarming with cops, paramedics, and reporters. Kurt lead the police to Computer Lab One, where Santana was still strapped to a table. The Overseer was no where in sight. The receptionist had given the police a list of names of the teachers who were involved, and they had all been taken into custody. None of them knew who the leaders of the operation where. The investigation was on going.

All the boys who had been conditioned had been taken to the hospital to have the implants removed, along with Santana. Blaine finally came around later that evening, though he was still pretty groggy.

Kurt didn't know how to react to him. He had been attracted to the boy from the moment he had first seen him, but with everything that had happened, he wasn't sure what was real and what was the programming.

They all remained in the hospital for several days, under the care of doctors, psychiatrists and counselors, working to reverse the programming and psychological damage, as well as the physical damage to their neurological systems.

The day before they were supposed to be released, Blaine came to Kurt's room to talk to him.

"I'm so sorry, Kurt. I wanted to warn you, I tried so hard, but I couldn't fight the programming at first. After they started on your conditioning, they weren't drugging me as often, and my mind started to clear. I should have tried to get you out of there sooner, instead of waiting for the competition."

Kurt listened to the other boy rambling, and understood how hard it had been for him. It had been hard for Kurt, too. "I'm not mad at you, Blaine. I know you couldn't help it anymore than I could. I'm sorry they punished you for trying to help me escape."

They were both silent for a few minutes. Finally Blaine cleared his throat. "I know things are kind of awkward between us right now, but I was hoping that maybe...well, I just thought we could be..."

"Could be what?" Kurt asked when the other boy paused.

Blaine took a deep breath. "Can we still be friends?"

Kurt smiled shyly at him. "I'd like that."

Blaine smiled in return, and Kurt patted the bed beside him. "Come on, sit down. Let's watch some mindless TV and veg out for a while."

The shorter boy laughed and joined him, and they spent the next hour flipping through channels, commenting on various shows. Just before lunch was to be served, they were watching a nature show on Animal Planet, and laughing at the strange animals that were being shown. Suddenly Blaine stiffened.

"Oh my god! I know who he is!" He shouted, and jumped off the bed, running out of the room, leaving Kurt laying there confused, listening to the narrator droning on about the colony of Meerkats they were filming.

…

Sebastian Smythe was an intelligent young man. When he had spotted the police on his monitors, he had known the gig was up. He had collected his files, wiped the computers, and made a hasty phone call before calmly walking out of the building with the other students.

A week later he was sprawled on a beach in Monte Carlo, soaking up the sun. That morning he had mailed off a package addressed to the Westerville PD. The CD contained all the information they would need to track down the Master and his two other accomplices. He wasn't worried about them tracking him here, he planned to be long gone, living another life before they even received the package. None of the boys knew who he was or what he looked like. There was nothing to connect him what so ever to the operation.

And one day soon, he would reclaim his prized possession, Blaine Anderson. The boy had been promised to him, and he refused to give him up. He smiled to himself. Yes, he would so enjoy breaking that boy in again, forcing his compliance, making him his most devoted pet.

And as for that Hummel boy? Well, maybe he'd keep him too. The boy had a killer mouth. He'd love to teach the pale boy how to use it properly. For now, he would be patient and wait, but when the time was right, he would make his move.


End file.
